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Inside 
The League 



THE SHOCKING EXPOSE OF HOW 
TERRORISTS, NAZIS, 
AND LATIN AMERICAN DEATH SQUADS 
HAVE INFILTRATED THE WORLD 
ANTI-COMMUNIST 
LEAGUE 



Scott-? Andersoru 
Joru Lec^) AndersorLj 



Dodd, Mead & Company New York 



'To our father 
John William Anderson 



Copyright © 1986 by Scott Anderson and Jon Lee Anderson 

AH rights reserved 

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form 
without permission in writing from the publisher. 

Published by Dodd, Mead & Company, Inc. 
79 Madison Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10016 

Distributed in Canada by 
McClelland and Stewart Limited, Toronto 

Manufactured in the United States of America 

Designed by Tom Mellers 

First Edition 
123456789 10 

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publtcaiion Data 

Anderson, Scott. 
Inside the League. 

Includes index. 
1. World Anti-Communist League. 2. Anti-communist 
movements. I. Anderson, Jon Lee. II. Title. 
HX11.W653A53 1986 324M 85-27587 
ISBN 0-396-08517-2 



CONTENTS 



Authors' Note ix 

Preface xiii 
Acknowledgments and Disacknowledgments xix 

Part I 3 

Part II 119 

Appendix: The League List 275 

Acronym List 286 

Notes Z89 

Index 511 



IN CONSIDERING THE WORLD ANTI-COMMU- 
NIST LEAGUE yOU HAVE ENTERED A WORLD OF 
IDEOLOGICAL FANATICISM, RACIALISM, IGNO- 
RANCE AND FEAR WHICH IS ALMOST BEVOND 
THE COMPREHENSION OF THE AVERAGE AMER- 
ICAN. . . . yOUR SUBJECT MATTER IS A COLLEC- 
TION OF ORIENTAL FASCISTS, MILITARISTS, 
RIGHT WING TERRORISTS WHO PUT BOMBS IN 
CIVILIAN AIRCRAFT, DEATHSQUADS, ASSASSINS, 
CRIMINALS AND MANy PEOPLE WHO ARE AS 
MUCH OPPOSED TO DEMOCRACy AS THEy ARE 
COMMUNISM. yOU ARE IN SOME DANGER 
yOURSELF. 

— -better to the authors 
from a former -league member 



AUTHORS' JJOTE 



This book is about specific people and organizations that have be- 
longed to the World Anti-Communist League. It may be presumed 
that all members of the League share a strong anti-communist sen- 
timent, but it doesn't necessarily follow that they share a common 
strategy in acting upon this sentiment. Not all League members are 
Nazis or death squad leaders; some are respectable, influential con- 
servatives in their respective nations. They will no doubt be dis- 
mayed to find themselves discussed in conjunction with outright 
thugs, terrorists, and criminals. Nevertheless, it is a situation of their 
own choosing. 

No League member can claim ignorance of the dark side of the 
World Anti-Communist League: in the past decade, investigators, 
newspapers, even League members themselves have publicly exposed 
Some of its seamier aspects. Although it seems inconceivable to us 
that the bona fide conservatives involved in the League do not know 
about the unsavory background of some of their fellow members, 
Without evidence to the contrary we must give them the benefit of 
the doubt and ascribe their association with the League to naivete 
rather than to an orientation shared with their infamous associates. 
If nothing else, perhaps this book will cause mainstream conserva- 
tives to be more selective about who they choose to ally themselves 
With in the future. 

In inside the League, we discuss organizations on six continents with 
histories dating in some cases to the 1920s or before. In the interest 
of brevity and readability, we have avoided elaborating on some 
issues that are subjects of debate in some circles (such as exactly when 



X 



an organization was founded, what other organization it grew out 
of ; and so on) and that can only serve to further complicate an al- 
ready complex subject. In the same vein, one organization is often 
known under a variety of names (the Iron Guard, the Legionary 
Movement, Miscarea Legionaria, Garde de Fer ; the Legion of the 
Archangel Michael) or is spelled in a number of ways (Ustasha, Us- 
tashi, Ustascha, Ustase). In these cases, we have chosen the name 
and spelling in most common usage while leaving the other spellings 
in place in cited sources. In addition to this, many Asian names can 
be transliterated in different ways. Wherever possible, we have writ- 
ten their names as they seem to prefer, with the result that their last 
names occasionally appear before their first names. 

This book cannot presume to be a definitive work on the inter- 
national alliances of the extreme right or on the history of uncon- 
ventional warfare. We have examined the World Anti-Communist 
League and placed special focus on it because it is the one organiza- 
tion in which representatives of virtually every right-wing extremist 
movement that has practiced unconventional warfare are to be found. 
The League is the one constant in this netherworld; whether looking 
at Croatian terrorists, Norwegian neo-Nazis, Japanese war criminals, 
or American ultra-rightists, you will find them here. 

If this book gives comfort or rhetorical ammunition to the far left, 
it is unintentional. This book is not an attack on any respectable 
conservative political movement. To the contrary, much of our most 
important information came from conservative individuals and orga- 
nizations who were appalled by the inclusion of what they view as 
fascist elements under the mantle of anti-communism. It should be 
unnecessary to state that the average conservative has as much in 
common with a man like Roberto D'Aubuisson or an organization 
like the Mexican Tecos as the average liberal does with Carlos the 
Jackal or the Italian Red Brigade. 

To expose the World Anti-Communist League is not to be "soft 
on communism." If anything, such an endeavor should assist the 
anti-communist cause, since the worst aspect of the League is that it 
maligns legitimate organizations and libels a legitimate political cause. 

Few would argue that Romania, for instance, languishes under a 
rigid communist dictatorship or that Romanians deserve to be freed 



xi 



from this repression. With that said ; many may question whether 
this cause is best represented by men who ; earlier in Iife ; skinned 
alive five-year-old children. 



PREFACE 



The knock on the door of room 604 of the Hotel Istmania came late 
at night, two days after one of the authors had conducted the "Lobo" 
Interview. When the author answered it, he was confronted by three 
young men wearing windbreakers; the pistols concealed in their 
pockets were aimed at his stomach. 

"Good evening/' their leader said, flashing a badge and pushing 
past 7 "I'm from Interpol. I have orders to check the status of foreign- 
ers in Honduras." 

i The other two secret police guarded the door as the leader rum- 
maged through the author's papers and clothes. 

"So how is your wife?" he asked. 

"Fine." 

"She's not sick?" 
"No." 

The Honduran officer straightened up and grinned. "Are you 
•ure?" 

When he heard the knock, the author had placed the notebook 
Containing the details of the "Lobo" interview underneath some 
newspapers; now the interrogator crossed to the desk, leafed through 
the newspapers, and found the notebook. Inexplicably, he didn't open 
It. 

"Are you planning to leave Honduras tomorrow?" he asked cas- 
ually. 

The agent walked back to his two comrades, then turned. "You 
write until very late at night, don't you? Maybe it is not the best 
thing to do." 



xiv 



When they were gone, the author retrieved the "Lobo" notes. 
Placing a call to Washington, D.C. ; he read them into a tape recorder, 
then tore them into little pieces and flushed them down the toilet. 
By the morning, there was no evidence in Honduras that the inter- 
view had taken place. 

Several days later, Lieutenant Yanez, chief of the Homicide Divi- 
sion of the National Investigations Administration (DNI), housed di- 
rectly across from the Hotel Istmania, admitted he had sent the agents 
to room 604. "I saw light and heard noise. If I had known it was 
you, I wouldn't have bothered." 

A week later, a guest at the Hotel Istmania disappeared. The body 
of Professor Salvador Diaz del Valle was found in the trunk of his 
car the next day, his head full of bullets. The DNI denied complicity. 
The author left the country. The story of "Lobo" could be told. 

The coauthor's visit to Tegucigalpa, capital of the Central Ameri- 
can nation of Honduras, was in March 1983. It was at a time when 
the Reagan Administration had begun to pour military and economic 
aid into the country, portraying it as a bulwark of democratic stabil- 
ity in contrast to the bloody chaos that afflicted the rest of the region. 
When questioned about the appropriations of money and materiel, 
the joint military exercises in the Honduran countryside, and the 
horde of military advisers who had inundated Tegucigalpa and taken 
up all the best hotel rooms, the Administration had only to point to 
Honduras ; s three neighbors— to the leftist Sandinista regime in Nica- 
ragua, to the vicious civil war in El Salvador, and to the festering 
guerrilla war in Guatemala— to drive home the need to keep Hon- 
duras peaceful and safe. 

But there was something else occurring in Honduras. Just as in 
Guatemala and El Salvador, people were disappearing. Rumors were 
circulating that death squads, sanctioned by the government, had 
been established. It was a story that had not been widely reported 
and one that both the Honduran and American governments were 
denying. 

"The so-called 'disappeared ones/ ;; General Gustavo Alvarez 
Martinez, chief of staff of the Honduran army, had said, "are prob- 
ably off in Cuba or Nicaragua training in terrorism to subvert the 
Fatherland." 

The author had gone to Tegucigalpa to find out the real story. An 



XV 



agent in DNI's political division had admitted the existence of Hon- 
duran death squads and had promised to arrange an interview with 
one of their leaders. 

"But it can take time," "Jorge" had cautioned. "I'll have to assure 
him that you are okay, and we'll have to arrange a safe meeting 
place." 

In the following weeks, the planning for the clandestine interview 
seemed hopelessly bogged down. The contact had trouble locating 
the death squad leader; when he did, the man was suspicious. Then 
there were the matters of confidentiality and of arranging the time 
and place for the meeting. What ensued was a volley of cryptic 
messages left at hotel reception desks and promises of positive de- 
velopments "soon." 

One evening, the author had arranged to meet "Jorge" in the 
coffee shop of the Hotel Istmania. When "Jorge" arrived, he was 
accompanied by a thin, fair-haired Honduran doctor in his late twen- 
ties, still dressed in his hospital "whites." The doctor sat in the seat 
across from the author and gave a thin, nervous grin. It was "Lobo," 
a doctor at the National Hospital in Tegucigalpa by day, a secret 
member of the Anti-Communist Combat Army (ELA) at night. It 
was the first acknowledgment by a participant that death squads 
existed in Honduras. 

"It was formed in 1979 by eighty-five of us," the doctor explained, 
"mainly graduate students in the law, pharmacology, psychology, 
engineering, and medical faculties at the National University. We 
wanted to do the things the police couldn't legally do." 

Since its inception, the ELA had grown to between three and four 
hundred members. Their actions ranged from disrupting gatherings 
of leftist university students, to sending anonymous warnings to the 
political opposition, to murder. 

"First we investigate and follow a suspect. Then we either kidnap 
him or leave an anonymous warning. 

"If the suspect heeds our warning," "Lobo" continued, "we leave 
him alone after confirming his rehabilitation. If he doesn't reform, 
we machine-gun him. We've eliminated sixteen people so far, mostly 
Ubor unionists and university professors, all confirmed Marxists." 

The doctor then offered a tour of the ELA's clandestine cemetery. 
"We'll arrange it; I'll have to clear it with the others." 

"Lobo" became more extroverted and, losing some of his caution, 



xvi 



bragged about the ELA's international connections. He began with a 
general discussion of the "talents" and track records of other Central 
American death squads. "The Guatemalan one is very efficient/' 
"Lobo" said. "That's ESA ; the Secret Anti-Communist Army. In El 
Salvador, it's the Maximiliano Hernandez Martinez Brigade [named 
for a Salvadoran dictator of the 1930s]. He knew what to do; he 
killed every Commie he caught." 

"What of La Mano Blanca?" the coauthor asked ; referring to The 
White Hand ; the death squad label that appeared repeatedly in Cen- 
tral America. 

The doctor smiled. "We are all La Mano Blanca. We work to- 
gether. We're in contact with groups in other countries, Guatemala 
and [El] Salvador. I attended a big conference in Argentina. Everyone 
was there." 

"Who do you mean ; everyone?" 

"Leaders of all the groups, from Central America, South America, 
Mexico. Everyone." 

The story that emerged over the next hour with the doctor was 
incredible. Not only did the EL A have connections with the military 
and security forces of Honduras (as the intermediary role of the secret 
police agent clearly attested) and with a political front group for pro- 
tection and cover, but it had links to other death squads throughout 
the continent. The name of one organization, however, came up 
repeatedly in the conversation: "Our movements are coordinated out 
of Mexico. That's where CAL is located." 

CAL, it turned out, was the acronym for the Latin American Anti- 
Communist Confederation. An intelligence informant in Mexico 
confirmed its existence and described it as a neo-Nazi splinter group 
formed after World War II. 

"CAL is also called The White Hand, The White Force, and The 
White Brigade," the source explained. "It got its name because it has 
the backing of powerful people who erase all evidence surrounding 
a murder." 

CAL was a confederation of anti-communist movements in coun- 
tries throughout South and Central America, but the Mexican dele- 
gation had long been in control of its direction and activities. We 
then looked in two directions at once, both at the composition of 
the Mexican chapter of CAL and at CAL's external links. 

We discovered that the Mexican chapter of CAL was called the 



xvii 



Mexican Anti-Communist Federation (FEMACO) and that its real 
power base and the home of its leaders were in the city of Guada- 
lajara, more specifically at the Autonomous University of Guadala- 
jara. The school was controlled by a secret society called The Tecos 
(Owls). The Tecos ; virulent anti-communists and anti-Semites, had 
control over many of the students and staff; they forced loyalty 
pledges and operated their own spy network on the campus. Profes- 
sor Raimundo Guerrero taught at the university; Guerrero was also 
head of FEMACO and the chairman of CAL. We now had tangible 
clues that some of the death squads of Latin America operated in 
loose coordination through a central body— the Latin American Anti- 
Communist Confederation. 

That proved to be just the beginning. The confederation, in turn ; 
belonged to an even larger international organization. CAL was the 
Latin American affiliate of an organization called the World Anti- 
Communist League (WACL). 

The World Anti-Communist League was founded in 1966 in 
South Korea; it held its first conference in 1967. Its stated goals were 
ambitious: 

What Does The WACL Seek To Accomplish? 

First: Through all forms of mass media and personal contacts, to 
urge all freedom loving peoples of the world to defeat and frustrate 
communist aggression and subversive activities. 

Second: To aid liberation movements of captive nations under 
communist rule. 

Third: To develop political and psychological warfare methods to 
expose and counteract communism. 

Fourth: To promote the exchange of cultural and informational 
material among freedom loving peoples to neutralize communist strat- 
egy and tactics. 

Fifth: To train anti-communist leaders to build a better world im- 
bued with freedom and to overcome the communist menace. 1 

Its chief organizers were the Taiwanese and South Korean govern- 
ments and an organization called the Anti-Bolshevik Bloc of Nations 
(ABN). Since that time, it has grown to have chapters in over ninety 
countries on six continents, and even a cursory glance at its mem- 
bership reveals some alarming facts. There among the names of 
American congressmen and senators, Catholic archbishops, and Brit- 



xviii 



ish members of Parliament, were Nazi collaborators, fugitive Europe- 
an terrorists, and reputed death squad leaders from Central America. 

The coauthors divided their inquiry. One traveled throughout 
South and Central America uncovering the international links of the 
"countertenor" network. The other searched for its benefactors and 
allies in the United States and Europe. In the process, they inter- 
viewed fascist leaders, frightened exiles, government officials, and 
former presidents. Inside the League is the story of that two-year in- 
vestigation. 

They encountered men who had collaborated with the Nazis in 
World War II by killing their countrymen and who had escaped 
retribution to continue their activities in the United States. They 
learned how European and Latin terrorists shared information, weap- 
ons, and credit for assassinations, and how the official Argentine 
government death squad advised like-minded groups in EI Salvador 
on the most effective means of liquidating their opposition. Most of 
all, they uncovered the international fraternity of the practitioners of 
unconventional war, old and new. 

As defined by a League member who advocates its use, unconven- 
tional warfare includes, "in addition to terrorism, subversion and guer- 
rilla warfare, such covert and non-military activities as sabotage, 
economic warfare, support to resistance groups, black and gray psycho- 
logical operations, disinformation activities, and political warfare." 2 

Certainly the Nazi forces of World War II and the rightist death 
squads of El Salvador and Guatemala today are among this century's 
most accomplished practitioners of this unconventional warfare, and 
even a casual observer will be struck by the similarity among the 
ideologies, tactics, and policies of, for example, the Croatian Ustasha 
of the 1940s and those of the Guatemalan MLN or of the Salvadoran 
ARENA in the 1980s. 

But this is a historical comparison that many historians, political 
scientists, and military theoreticians have already noted. What has 
not been as well publicized is that the Salvadoran rightist killing 
peasants today learned his methods from the Nazis and their collabo- 
rators in Europe, and that he didn't receive this knowledge through 
the reading of books but through careful tutoring. 3 

This international transfer of the fine art of unconventional war- 
fare was made through the one organization to which all the nec- 
essary groups belonged— the World Anti-Communist League. 



ACKNOWLEDGMENTS AND 
^ IS ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 



In the process of investigating the World Anti-Communist League, 
hundreds of individuals from some thirty countries on six continents 
shared information with us. Many of them did so at immense per- 
sonal risk. If their names were revealed, they could reasonably expect 
to be embarrassed, denounced, deported from their present safe ha- 
vens, lose their jobs, or be murdered. A very special thanks must go 
to these courageous men and woman, some of whom literally trusted 
us with their lives. 

Another great debt is owed to the many conservative individuals, 
including former League members, who agreed to be interviewed. 
These men and women, who revealed much of the League's inner 
workings, were motivated not by personal or political gain but by 
disgust at those who, under the League banner, called themselves 
fellow "anti-communists." They, too, have asked for anonymity. 

While we cannot begin to list all those who assisted us and agreed 
to have their names used, chief among them are Dale Van Atta, a 
reporter for columnist Jack Anderson, who helped in the original 
investigation of the Mexican Tecos, and Russ Bellant, an investiga- 
tive reporter who generously shared his information on Nazi war 
criminals in the United States and Europe. Sincere thanks are also 
due to Jack Anderson, Larry Birnes, Charles Bonnay, Fred Clarkson, 
Ferox Microsystems, Leonel Gomez, Pharris Harvey, Tom Hutton, 
J. T. Johnson, Harry Kelly, Allen Klots, John Loftus, Anne Marie 
O'Connor, and Jean Marie Simon. A special debt is owed to Juana 



XX 



Arias de Anderson and Barrie Kessler, who tolerated and encouraged 
us, and to our mother, Joy Anderson, who nurtured our desire for 
writing. 

At the same time, there were those who had the ability and the 
self-interest to assist us in this work but who failed to do so. The 
Anti-Defamation League of B'nai B ; rith, which had at first de- 
nounced the anti-Semitic elements in the Latin American Anti-Com- 
munist Confederation, inexplicably declined to furnish us with their 
material. The irony of receiving information from a contrite Nazi 
collaborator on the activities of Nazi war criminals, while failing to 
receive the same cooperation from the most important Jewish organi- 
zation in the United States, was just one of many encountered while 
researching this book. 

The biggest disacknowledgment, however, must be reserved for 
the U. S. government. Many articles have been written about how 
the present Administration has gutted the Freedom of Information 
Act, and we do not intend to add to them here save through fur- 
nishing one further example. According to correspondence received 
by the authors, the FBI has a 107-page file on the World Anti-Com- 
munist League. Under a Freedom of Information Act request, they 
furnished forty-three pages. Of these forty-three pages, less than three 
pages of FBI-originating text remained, the rest having been censored 
and blacked out. One might wonder what interest the U. S. govern- 
ment has in protecting an organization so inimical to American goals 
and values. 



Inside 
The League 



ONE 



We maintain that the freedom-loving peoples must work in 
dose cooperation to overcome the evil force of communism and 
strengthen their unity to expand the sphere of freedom. 

Prtambh to the WACL Charter 

The evening crowds on Calle Atocha on January 23, 1977, 
had already thinned by nine-thirty. Tourists, who never frequented 
that middle-class shopping street in the heart of Madrid, were inside 
the cafes in Plaza Mayor or strolling along the ornate Gran Via. By 
ten o ; cIock ; the Madriknos had joined them; Calle Atocha was vir- 
tually deserted. At ten-fifteen, no one noticed the two young men in 
long coats on the corner. 

Jose Fernandez Cerra casually gazed up and down the four-lane 
street. The movie at Cine Consulado hadn't let out yet, but he noted 
with satisfaction that the shops— the little place at number 42 that 
sold watches, the Icartua stationery store, the photo kiosk— were all 
closed. Only the lights of the El Globo bar showed activity, but even 
there the waiters were mopping the floors. Just beyond EI Globo was 
the stairway leading down to the Metro station and, in the little 
triangle of grass and sidewalks and park benches that were the Plaza 
San Martin, the large illuminated clock said it was ten-twenty. Jose 
gazed at the building before him: number 55 Calle Atocha. 

It was a dreary five-story building. The ground floor was occupied 
by a branch of the Banco Hispano Americano, dark and shuttered at 
this hour. The second floor was of the same drab concrete, the large 



4 



windows giving onto small balconies enclosed by wrought-iron grills. 
The top three floors were of brick ; alternating red and white, giving 
it a reticulated effect. Most of the rooms were dark, with shutters 
pulled tight, but not the apartment Jose was watching. On the third 
floor, light shone through the slats and voices were heard. Jose walked 
to the entrance and Carlos Garcia Julia followed. 

The green front doors were open, and the two men ignored the 
intercom system. They had expected the doors to be locked— after 
all, 1977 was a violent time in Spain. Their luck held as they crossed 
the foyer and started up the stairs, passing the small window of the 
sleeping watchman's room. They walked softly up the creaking 
wooden stairs, keeping close to the wall where the boards had a 
firmer foundation. The stairs wound their way around an open ele- 
vator. Its ropes and pulleys looked ancient, but it wasn't for safety 
reasons that Jose and Carlos had opted to walk. 

They reached the second floor, passed the closed door of a pension, 
and continued up into the darkness. They stood outside the oak door 
on the third floor and waited for their eyes to adjust to the weak 
light, the sole illumination coming from the glow of the dirty sky- 
light one floor above. Carlos stuck his hands into his coat pockets as 
Jose rang the buzzer. 

The eight men and one woman in the room fell silent at the 
sound of the buzzer. The lawyers— some communists, some merely 
liberal, all active in labor law— were having a reunion of sorts, and 
their number was complete; they had no idea who could be arriving 
at this late hour. Maria Dolores Gonzalez Ruis rose from her chair 
and left the smoke-filled front room. 

As soon as the bolt was lifted, Jose and Carlos burst through the 
door. Maria Dolores fell silent upon seeing the pistol aimed at her 
head. Following their hushed orders, she led the two intruders into 
the conference room. 

"Get against the wall!" Jose shouted at the stunned men. 

"What's going on?" one of the lawyers demanded as they stood 
against the white wall. "What do you want?" 

Neither Carlos nor Jose answered. 

With the eight men and Maria Dolores facing the wall, Carlos 
took the safety off his gun. Jose turned to him and nodded. Carlos 
started at the left, Jose at the right, each working toward the center, 



5 



as they carefully put a bullet into the back or head of each of the 
nine occupants of apartment three. 

As the bodies fell, the intruders reloaded and fired into the heap. 
The room became thick with gunpowder. The screams of shock 
turned into moans of pain and the deep wheeze of the dying. Carlos 
and Jose calmly put away their guns, stepped out onto the staircase 
into the chaos of half-dressed residents awakened by the gunfire, 
descended to the street, and disappeared. 

Jozo Damjanovic was a man driven by one consuming passion, 
and he had carried it with him from Europe to South America: to 
find officials of the Yugoslavian government and kill them. 

A fanatical Croatian nationalist, Damjanovic had dedicated his life 
to a deadly war against the Tito regime, which had incorporated his 
homeland into the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia. Damja- 
novic had been one of a group of terrorists who had stormed the 
Yugoslav Embassy in Stockholm in 1971 and killed two diplomats. 
After a brief stint in a Swedish jail, other Croatian terrorists had 
hijacked a plane and won their freedom. Damjanovic and his cohorts 
had then gone underground to Spain, eluding Interpol and various 
European police agencies for three months. In July 1973, they had 
found their savior in the form of General Alfredo Stroessner, the 
dictator of the South American country of Paraguay. 

Stroessner was in West Germany visiting his ancestral home of 
Hof when contact with him was made by the Croatian fugitives. 
They were on the run, the Paraguayan strongman was told, and 
needed a safe asylum. Stroessner, a longtime guardian of Nazis and 
right-wing terrorists, readily agreed. Damjanovic and eight others 
were given safe passage to Paraguay, where they were put to work 
training Stroessner's secret police and personal bodyguard squad. 

That had been three years ago, and the Croatians chafed under 
their isolation from the front lines of their war with Yugoslavia. As 
international fugitives, however, they could not risk returning to Eu- 
rope. In 1976, they decided to strike in the only avenue open to 
them— locally. The new Yugoslavian ambassador to Paraguay seemed 
an appropriate target, one whose assassination would put the hated 
Titoists on notice that the Croatians had not disappeared. 

This was the reason why Jozo Damjanovic was waiting on a 
streetcorner in Asunci6n, the capital of Paraguay, on June 15, 1976. 



6 



Seeing the black limousine making its way through the traffic, he 
removed his pistol from its hoIster ; tucked it under his arm ; and 
waited. 

Carlos Abdala ; the new Uruguayan ambassador to Paraguay ; 
looked out the window of his limousine at the main shopping street 
of the capital. He was getting used to Paraguay ; though Asuncion 
had none of the excitement or cosmopolitan flavor of Montevideo ; 
the capital of his homeland. It was really more of an overgrown cow 
town; its few tall buildings and fancy shops gave way to slums and 
shantytowns and then to the great flat expanse of pampas that made 
up most of Paraguay. 

Still, it was a safe assignment. There was virtually no crime in 
Paraguay, except for that which was sanctioned by the government 
of Alfredo Stroessner. Paraguay was the smuggling and black-market 
hub of South America, but there was no murder or rape or anti-state 
activities to speak of. As his limousine pulled to the curb and the 
chauffeur jumped out to open the door, the ambassador really had 
nothing to fear as far as his personal security was concerned. 

Which is why Carlos Abdala, stepping from the car, was probably 
more surprised than frightened by the burly young man who stepped 
toward him with an upraised pistol. 

"Freedom for Croatia!" Jozo Damjanovic shouted before firing the 
bullet that ended the life of Ambassador Abdala. 

Bernardo Leighton and his wife, Ana, stepped from the taxi on 
Via Aurelia in Rome and, gathering up their shopping bags, walked 
toward the entrance of their apartment building. They didn't see the 
young man who had awaited their return and who now fell into 
step behind them. 

It was October 6, 1975. Bernardo Leighton was sixty-six years old 
and an exile from his native Chile. A cofounder of the Chilean Chris- 
tian Democratic Party and leader of its most liberal branch, he had 
fled his homeland two years earlier after the bloody coup that over- 
threw the elected leftist government of Salvador Allende. During his 
exile in Rome, he stayed active in his opposition to the right-wing 
military government of General Augusto Pinochet. Because he main- 
tained contact with liberal political forces within Chile and was a 
respected voice in the international brotherhood of Christian Dem- 



7 



ocrats, Leighton worried the Chilean government, and some months 
earlier they had decided to silence him. 

Getting rid of the politician presented a logistical problem. Al- 
though it was an international pariah after the savagery of the 1973 
coup, the Pinochet government had been slowly achieving, if not 
respect, at least recognition, in other capitals, and it just would not 
do for it to be known that this government was in the habit of 
murdering its opposition in other countries. The assassination of 
Leighton was therefore to be a contract job. 

The young man with the handlebar moustache three feet behind 
the Christian Democrat pulled out a 9 mm Beretta, pointed it at the 
politician's head, and pulled the trigger. Bernardo Leighton pitched 
face forward on the sidewalk. Ana stared in shock at her fallen hus- 
band until she too was shot in the back. The gunman hesitated for 
a moment, debating whether to administer the coup de grace with a 
couple of dose-range shots to their heads; deciding they were already 
dead or dying, he turned and fled. 

Bernardo survived his massive head wound and recovered; Ana 
was partially paralyzed and remains in a wheelchair. Their attacker 
was not immediately identified, and no arrest was made. Four days 
later, the Cuban Nationalist Movement, a right-wing Cuban exile 
group in New Jersey, took credit for the shootings; they imparted 
details that the Italian police said only the assailiant could have 
known. Why a group of anti-communist Cubans in the United States 
would want to kill a liberal Chilean in Italy was a question that 
wouldn't be answered for some time. 

In March 1979, Manuel Colom Argueta, leader of Guatemala's 
United Revolutionary Front (FUR) political party, gave an interview 
in which he frankly described the political scene in his country. Al- 
though it was reformist, despite its name the FUR was hardly rev- 
olutionary. From a wealthy landowner family, Manuel Colom was 
a liberal democrat who sought to push his policies— land reform, 
dissolution of the oligarchy, curbing of human-rights abuses— through 
participation in whatever semblance of democracy existed in Guate- 
mala. Just a few days before the interview, Colom's party had re- 
ceived the government permission necessary to campaign in the 
upcoming elections. Shortly thereafter, he received a call from a friend 



8 



of his in the ultra-right party ; the National Liberation Movement 
(MLN). 

"Quit, Manuel/' the man told him; "if you don ; t ; they're going 
to finish you." 

But Manuel Colom had been battling the Guatemalan institutions 
of fraudulent eIections ; death squads ; and political assassinations for 
too long to stop then. Even the threat from the MLN, which was 
blamed for organizing the nation's death squads and for carrying out 
a two-decade campaign of terror ; did not dissuade him. 

"Mario Sandoval Alarcon," he said in the interview, referring to 
the head of the MLN ; "is a buffoon straight out of the middle ages. 
The army uses him a Iot ; but he also knows how to use the army. . . . 
He knows how to blackmail the army. ... He wants to polarize the 
political struggle, to make himself and his movement indispensable 
as 'bastions against communism.' " 1 

At eight o'clock on March 22, Manuel Colom left his home in 
Zone 15 in Guatemala City and headed for his office downtown. 
He had been taking different routes from his home to the office for 
safety reasons, but he apparently didn't notice the helicopter that 
followed him that morning. 

He worked in his office until about ten-fifteen ; when ; glancing out 
at the normally busy Calle 5, he noticed that the street was virtually 
deserted. It was a familiar sight in Guatemala ; this prelude to an 
assassination ; and Manuel reacted quickly. Getting on the phone ; he 
called his political contacts in Guatemala's various political parties. 

"Who is it for?" he asked each of them. 

No one knew or would tell until he reached his contact in the 
MLN. 

"It's for you ; Manuel." 

Colom descended to the alley and climbed behind the wheel of a 
car while his bodyguards piled into another. They raced out the 
building's back entrance and managed to speed past one roadblock 
before the bodyguards' car careened and crashed ; riddled with ma- 
chine-gun fire. 

AIone ; Manuel raced through the city and reached the airport road. 
On the straight stretch ; though, he looked back to see motorcycles 
gaining on him. One of them ; carrying two men, caught up and 
came abreast. The passenger drew out a machine pistol, aimed it at 
the head of the FUR leader, and squeezed the trigger. Manuel Colom 



9 



was dead, one more of the thousands of Guatemalans to fall victim 
to the right-wing death squads and political assassins in 1979. 

When the U. S. ambassador to Paraguay, Robert White, walked 
into the auditorium housing the thirteenth annual conference of the 
World Anti-Communist League in Asuncion, Paraguay, on April 24, 
1979, he was not warmly received. The ambassador, who several 
years later would achieve fame and notoriety for his outspoken op- 
position to American policies in El Salvador, was an unexpected vis- 
itor to the conference, and when the participants caught sight of him, 
the proceedings came to a virtual halt. 

What Robert White had intruded upon was a meeting of the 
leaders of conservative movements from around the world. Govern- 
ment ministers were present, as were religious leaders and notable 
conservatives from the United States. It was, by outward appear- 
ances, a polite gathering of anti-communists, dedicated to fighting 
totalitarianism and communist expansion from around the world. 
But it was in fact another meeting of the organization that unites 
and gives a common front to the most brutal and deadly extremists 
to be found anywhere. 

Among those attending was Bias Pinar, the leader of the Spanish 
political party, Fuerza Nueva. Two members of his organization had 
gunned down the nine lawyers on Calle Atocha in 1977. Nearby 
was the aging, mustachioed Giorgio Almirante, leader of Italy ; s fas- 
cist MSI party; it was Pierlugi Concutelli, a member of the youth 
wing of the MSI, and not Cuban exiles, who had shot Bernardo 
Leighton and his wife on the streets of Rome four years before. 
Mario Sandoval Alarcbn, the head of Guatemala's MLN, the political 
party responsible for institutionalizing the death squads that had killed 
Manuel Colom, was a distinguished main speaker. And somewhere 
around the conference hall, seeing to the safety of conference chair- 
man President Alfredo Stroessner, was Jozo Damjanovic, the assassin 
of Carlos Abdala. 



TWO 



A good Ustashi is one who can use a knife to cut a child 
from the womb of its mother. 

L^nte Pavelic 
Croatian Fuhrer 



On A SEARJNGLY COLD December day, one of the authors turned 
into the driveway of a nondescript tract house in the Philadelphia 
suburb of Chester. A short, elderly man in an overcoat waited for 
him on the front step, stamping his shoes against the concrete to 
fight the cold. It was Janos; after months of phone calls and letters, 
he had finally agreed to the interview. 

The eighty-year-old emigre ushered the author into the living room 
of his modest home. "Perhaps we should have postponed our meet- 
ing/ 7 Janos said, sinking onto the uncomfortable couch. "With these 
winds, I was worried about you." 

The wall behind Janos was studded with two dozen framed pho- 
tographs, medallions, ribbons, and plaques. They ranged from cita- 
tions from the deposed king of his native country to letters of 
appreciation from the Republican Party of New York for his selfless 
dedication. There was even one from Chiang Kai-shek, the late gen- 
eralissimo of Taiwan. The bright ribbons and shiny metal did not, 
however, alter the general dreariness of the room, the house, or the 
neighborhood. 

The interview lasted nearly five hours, during which Janos's wife 
produced a steady stream of sandwiches, coffee, and biscuits. Every 



14 

time this doting, plain woman in her late sixties entered the room ; 
Janos stopped talking ; turned to her, and smiled, love showing in his 
sparkling eyes. 

The author asked Janos about other emigres. 

"Chirila Ciuntu? Very strong. Big ; powerful arms. Short. Doesn't 
speak English very much/ 7 

Yaroslav Stetsko? 

"Stetsko." Janos sat back, cocked his head ; and looked imperious. 
"Aloof. Not arrogant, but aloof. He always has this look about him. 
He always looks . . . angry." 

And Stejpan Hefer? 

"Ah, Stejpan!" the old man cried, leaping to his feet. He puffed 
out his chest, put his hands on his hips, and strutted about the small 
room. "This is how Stejpan walked. And when he spoke, he always 
shouted and waved his hands. Very intense, very emotional." 

When the author was leaving, Janos resumed his vigil on the 
doorstep, waving and watching after the car until it disappeared from 
sight. 

There was no way one could dislike Janos. His solicitude and 
warmth, the teenage adoration he showed toward his wife, all gave 
one a feeling of affection for the old man. 

Which was disquieting, because Janos was a Nazi war criminal. 
The friends he had caricatured in his Chester living room were also 
war criminals. 

While there is no evidence that Janos ever direcdy participated in 
atrocities, his three friends certainly had. Each had played key roles 
in three different genocide programs, in Romania, in the Ukraine, 
and in Croatia, that had exterminated at least two million people. 

The common bond of all four men was membership in the World 
Anti-Communist League. 

The League was founded in 1966 as a public relations arm for the 
governments of Taiwan and South Korea. It has since grown to be 
something far more important: an instrument for the practice of un- 
conventional warfare— assassinations, death squads, sabotage- 
throughout the world. 

There is nothing new about the World Anti-Communist League. 
Its stated purpose, to form a unified front against communism, was 
first expostulated in Hitler's anti-Comintern policy. Likewise, the 



12 

means it has chosen to fight communism— unconventional warfare, 
counterterror, political warfare, it goes by a variety of names— were 
first employed by the Nazis. 

While the employment of unconventional warfare is certainly not 
solely the domain of the ultra-right, as the pogroms in Stalinist Rus- 
sia and Khmer Rouge Cambodia make clear, it was the Nazis and 
their collaborators who "best" employed it with such hideous effi- 
ciency. 

The World Anti-Communist League hasn't merely borrowed these 
concepts or tactics from the Nazis; it has incorporated the Nazis 
themselves as well. Many of the major figures behind the creation 
and promotion of the League are men who first practiced their brand 
of warfare in the streets, ghettos, and concentration camps of World 
War II Europe. 

The deserted gas chambers, ovens, and mass graves of Treblinka 
and Auschwitz are not the only relics of the Nazis' and their collabo- 
rators 7 impact on civilization. There are living relics scattered in every 
corner of the globe. Even before the dust had settled on Hitler's 
shattered Third Reich, many of those responsible were escaping to 
work for the formation of a Fourth Reich. From their havens, they 
have nurtured their cause and kept it alive, they have recruited 
younger generations, and they have formed networks for safety and 
strength, bonds that remain to this day. 

When most people think of Nazis, two images are evoked: aging 
war criminals, the Josef Mengeles and Klaus Barbies living in fright- 
ened obscurity somewhere in South America, or else of disenchanted 
youths who, in brown shirts and jackboots, vandalize synagogues 
and march through city streets. But there is a third type of Nazi, 
who is far more powerful, public, and dangerous than the other two: 
these are the Croatians, Slovaks, Ukrainians, Latvians who carried 
out the German-dictated massacres, who never faced a Nuremberg, 
and who joined the World Anti-Communist League. 

The participation of these Eastern Europeans in the Holocaust re- 
mains one of the least-told stories in modem history. The reason this 
is so is simple: many if them were recruited by American and British 
intelligence, brought into the United States and Canada, allowed to 
rise to prominent positions in their emigre communities, and ulti- 
mately to revise history. 

Today, their rhetoric is different; they no longer talk very much 



13 



about the "Communist, Jewish, Freemason conspiracy/' for now 
they have allies who need them to be more discreet than that. In 
1986, as in 1936, they hide behind the buzzwords anti-Bolshevism and 
anti-communism to further their goals and to forge links with others. 

Through the World Anti-Communist League, the Ukrainian na- 
tionalists who assisted the Nazis in their invasion of the Soviet 
Union, the Ustashi of Croatia who murdered nearly a million Serbs, 
the Romanian Legionnaires who slaughtered over four hundred Jews 
in one day in 1941— all have made contact with their younger Latin, 
European, and Asian counterparts. Through their front groups and 
their involvement in American politics, the Nazi collaborators have 
blended in and become respectable. 

Chirila Ciuntu. Yaroslav Stetsko. Stejpan Hefer. Three men from 
three different countries without, at first glance, a lot in common. 

Chirila Ciuntu, his close-cropped black hair now graying, is a ref- 
ugee from Romania who has labored for over thirty years in the 
steel mills of Canada. A regular churchgoer to the Romanian Ortho- 
dox Church in Detroit, the retired Ciuntu now spends his days in a 
high-rise apartment building in Windsor, Canada. 

Escaping the repression of the Stalinist regime in the Soviet Union, 
the stooped and bespectacled Ukrainian Yaroslav Stetsko formed and 
continues to head an organization of Eastern European exiles called 
the Anti-Bolshevik Bloc of Nations (ABN). Now residing in Munich, 
West Germany, Stetsko has long been active in urging American and 
Western European governments to take a firmer stand against the 
Kremlin. In 1983, he met with President Ronald Reagan at the White 
House. 

Stejpan Hefer, a Croatian lawyer who fled his homeland in 1945, 
resided in Argentina until his death in 1973. Although he was a fiery 
orator in the cause of Croatian independence, his short stature, angry 
gestures, and slightly crossed eyes were sources of some amusement 
for his listeners. In his capacity as president of the Croatian Libera- 
tion Movement, he established ties with many American conserva- 
tives and made frequent trips to the United States. 

From different places and with different causes, these three men 
are, nevertheless, united by certain similarities. All were Nazi collabo- 
rators before and during World War II. All were accused of war 
crimes. All escaped the judgment of history. All built respectable new 



14 



lives and carried on their efforts for international fascism through 
front groups ; intelligence agencies ; and churches. All joined the World 
Anti-Communist League. 

Today in the United States ; Canada, South America, and Western 
Europe there exists an elusive network known as the Legion of the 
Archangel Michael. Also called the Iron Guard ; the Legion is com- 
posed of Romanian emigres and their children. Calling themselves 
Legionnaires or Guardists ; they have regular gatherings and maintain 
contact through certain parishes of the Romanian Orthodox Church. 
But the Legion is not primarily a fraternal or religious organization; 
it is ; foremost, a cult of death. 

Today the Legion is run from a well-guarded building in Madrid 
by a droopy-eyed, elderly man named Horia Sima. One of its chief 
lieutenants in North America is Chirila Ciuntu. 

As Legion spokesman in the Detroit- Windsor area, which has the 
greatest concentration of Romanian exiles in North America, Ciuntu 
holds a position of great power in the Iron Guard, which also ex- 
plains his prominence in the World Anti-Communist League. In 
1981, he was in the Romanian delegation to the fourteenth annual 
League conference held in Taiwan. He has also attended League con- 
ferences in Washington and Luxembourg. He planned to attend the 
1984 conference in San Diego but was ill. 

Others might try to hide their involvement in an infamous organ- 
ization, but not Ciuntu. A Detroit reporter who met with him in 
1980 described his home: 

The walls of the small flat are festooned with flags and tapestries. 
The Romanian national flag— red, yellow and blue— flies atop his tel- 
evision set. But his flag has, stitched at its center, three horizontal and 
three vertical intersecting lines— the symbol of the Iron Guard. The 
same symbol appears on wall tapestries and small embroidered doi- 
lies. . . . Books, many with the Iron Guard cross on their bindings, 
are everywhere. A green military-style shirt hangs from the back of a 
chair. 1 

Although he is obviously proud of his position within the Legion, 
Ciuntu is also sensitive to criticism of it. "Most of the stories about 
the Legion, with a few exceptions, are a complete distortion of truth 
and realities/' Ciuntu wrote one of the authors in 1985. "The Bri- 



i5 

tannic and American people have permanently been deceived by 
those who wrote about the movement and did not have the courage 
of objectivity to re-establish the truth." 2 

The Legion is still built around the idol worship of Corneliu Cod- 
reanu ; who ; in 1927 ; literally galloped out of obscurity on a white 
staIIion ; clutching a revolver in one hand and a crucifix in the other. 
He was the capitanul (captain) of the Legion of the Archangel Michael 
and was dedicated to purging Romania of Jews ; foreigners, commu- 
nists, and Freemasons. "Before we aspire to take helm of the coun- 
try's ruIe/ ; he wrote ; "we must mold a different type of Romania 
totally cleansed of today's vices and defects." 3 

Handsome and articulate, Codreanu urged authoritarian national- 
ism to implement this spiritual renaissance and purification, and his 
followers, among them Chirila Ciuntu, steeped themselves in the 
eerie mysticism of his brand of fascist Catholicism. Clad in green 
shirts and wearing silver crucifixes, the Legionnaires took blood oaths 
to their comrades and their capitanul. Each vowed to commit any act 
necessary, including murder, to avenge the death of any Legion 
member. 

With a smile on our lips 
We look death in the eye 
For we are the death team 
That must win or die. 4 

One who incurred the wrath of "the death team" was Mihail 
Stelescu, a Legionary leader who had become disillusioned and split 
with Codreanu. Ten Legionnaires, chosen by lot for the honor of 
silencing him, caught Stelescu in July 1936, as he recovered in a 
Bucharest hospital from an appendectomy. He was shot 120 times 
and mutilated with a hatchet; then, according to an official account, 
the killers "danced around the pieces of flesh, prayed, kissed each 
other and cried with joy." 

When Codreanu was assassinated for his intrigues by King Carol 
in 1938, leadership passed to his lieutenants who fled to the safety 
of Nazi Germany. Among them were Horia Sima and Viorel Trifa, 
the latter the head of the Legion's youth wing. Later, as an Arch- 
bishop in the United States, it was Trifa who would be most re- 
sponsible for resurrecting the Legion in North America. 

Those who remained in Romania, including the young Chirila 



16 



Ciuntu, went further underground and waited. They formed secret 
cells, or "nests." Each nest consisted of thirteen members, who paid 
dues to propagate the "faith." According to one Guardist, now living 
in the United States, "the Movement spent the money obtained 
through the nest system exclusively for the necessities of battle." 5 

In hiding, all remembered their blood oath to avenge Codreanu 
and, ten months later, they did. As the limousine carrying the Prime 
Minister of Romania entered a plaza in central Bucharest, it was 
riddled with machine-gun fire from a Guardist hit squad. 

The Germans used the Legionnaires as a trump card to control 
Romania. In May 1940, Nazis forced a detente between King Carol 
and the exiled Guardists. Carol abdicated in September 1940; he made 
a mad dash for the border, chased by Iron Guardists intent on killing 
him. He himself eluded the Legion of the Archangel, but most of his 
entourage were caught and thrown in prison. 

The government of Romania was now in the hands of two 
men, Iron Guard leader Horia Sima (who had returned from Ger- 
many with Trifa) and non-Guardist General Yon Antonescu. The 
alliance was an uneasy one, for each man was vying for the favor 
of the Nazis. Iron Guard officials were placed in key government 
posts, and Guard commissars were appointed to see to the "Ro- 
manizing" (purging of Jews) of industry and commerce. Twenty- 
six-year-old Viorel Trifa, who blamed the "kikes" for all the ills 
of the nation, was named president of the National Union of 
Christian Romanian Students. As the Legion of the Archangel 
gained power within the bureaucracy, the plan for a complete take- 
over took shape. As was the Guard ; s custom, that plan was exe- 
cuted in blood. 

At 11:45 on the night of November 26, 1940, a gang of Legion- 
naires entered the prison where King Carol's government ministers 
were being held. They dragged the men, sixty-four in all, from the 
cells, shouted "For the Guard!" and chopped them to pieces with 
axes, picks, and shovels. The butchery signaled a holy call to arms; 
the followers of the Archangel answered the cry. During the next 
three days, they tortured to death more than three hundred victims 
throughout Romania. Typical was the case of Nicolae Iorga, a pre- 
eminent Romanian historian and former prime minister. On the night 
of November 27, a squad of Legionnaires raided his home. The 



47 

Guardists ripped his long white beard from his face and castrated 
him before stabbing and beating him to death.* 

The carnage of late November did not immediately result in the 
revolution that many had expected, but it was the prelude to one. 
The final spark came seven weeks later when, during a power strug- 
gle between Antonescu and Sima ; the Guard was called into action. 
"In Germany ; national socialism ... is preached by old foxhole fight- 
ers," Trifa ; the student union leader ; exhorted on the evening of 
January 20, "is borne in the hearts of the German people and is 
carried to triumph by German youth. Besides this huge battle for 
national socialism which leads to unmasking and fighting Judaism, 
if Adolf Hitler had done nothing else, he would still have risen to 
the highest peaks of history for opening the way." 6 

On January 21, 1941, throughout Romania the Iron Guard took 
to the streets, roaming for loyalist soldiers, Antonescu supporters, 
and especially Jews. Shortly after three in the afternoon in Bucharest, 
three hundred Guardists, wearing the Legion's distinctive green shirt 
and silver crucifix and shouting "Death to Freemasons and Kikes!" 
turned onto Calea Victoriei and moved toward the Prefecture, the 
main police station. With them was Chirila Ciuntu. 

The small army charged through the doors of the Prefecture, seiz- 
ing the building in the name of the revolution. Within minutes they 
had taken the weapons from the loyalist policemen, disposed of those 
who refused to participate, mounted machine guns on the fourth- 
floor balconies, and covered the avenues of approach. With this se- 
cure base, they then dealt with their victims in the basement. 

Constantin Antonovici, a Romanian Christian, survived his in- 
ternment in the Prefecture and now lives in seclusion in the United 
States. Opposed to the Iron Guard's anti-Semitism and violence, on 
January 21 he had been on a Bucharest street urging people to ignore 
the Guard's call to murder. He was spotted by Guardists, beaten, and 
dragged along to the Prefecture. He was in the basement when Trifa 
entered. 

When they [Trifa and his aides] arrived at the first cell, I heard them 
order the guards to open it. Immediately, I heard a few pistol shots 
being fired and cries from the people being killed. I had not reached 



"Traian Boeru, the leader of the Iron Guard squad that murdered lorga, was 
never brought to justice and, as of 1981, was living in West Cermany. 



18 



the end of the corridor before I heard more begging and shots in the 
next cell. My guards said, "They will kill all the Jews who are in 
these cells." 7 

Ciuntu was also in the Prefecture at the time but denies any in- 
volvement: "I didn't kill anyone. ... I didn't see anything, just a few 
people running around the streets. ... I don ; t know what was going 
on in the basement. It was a big building. I don't know anything." 8 

With the capture of the Prefecture, the members of the Legion 
of the Archangel had achieved one goal, but they had still others. 
In the next thirty-six hours, they razed eight synagogues, de- 
stroyed the Jewish ghetto in Bucharest, and murdered over four 
hundred Romanians with gasoline, axes, knives, meathooks, and 
shovels. 

"A mob of several hundred attacked the Sephardic Temple," 
American correspondent Leigh White reported at the time, "smash- 
ing its windows with stones and battering down its doors with 
lengths of timber. All its objects of ritual— pray er books, shawls, Tal- 
muds, Torahs, altar benches and tapestries— were carried outside and 
piled in a heap which was soaked with gasoline and set afire. A 
number of Jewish pedestrians were herded together and forced to 
dance in a circle around the bonfire. When they dropped in exhaus- 
tion they were doused with gasoline and burned alive." 

Jewish prisoners were taken by the Iron Guard to the municipal 
slaughterhouse. "There," White wrote, "in a fiendish parody of ko- 
sher methods of butchering, they hung many of the Jews on meat 
hooks and slit their throats; others they forced to kneel at chopping 
blocks while they [Iron Guardists] beheaded them with cleavers." 9 

One of those who observed the scene was the American envoy 
to Romania, Franklin Mott Gunther. In his report to Washington, 
he recounted seeing about "sixty Jewish corpses on the hooks used 
for carcasses, all skinned. The quantity of blood about [indicated] 
that they had been skinned alive." 

By the twenty-third, the rebellion, which had failed to receive the 
support of the Germans, had been put down. In the streets of the 
capital and other Romanian cities and in the Bucharest slaughter- 
house were the mutilated remains of the Legion's victims. "In the 
morgue, bodies were so cut up that they no longer resembled any- 
thing human. In the municipal slaughterhouse a witness saw a girl 



19 



of five hanging by her feet like a calf, her entire body smeared with 
blood." 10 

The massacre did not mean the end of the Legion. The German 
SS commander in Romania, Otto von Bolschwing, * hid the top Le- 
gion leaders and spirited them across the border into Germany in SS 
uniforms. Among them were Horia Sima and Viorel Trifa; they 
were shortly joined by many more. There they were placed under 
"protective custody," in which they received the same privileges as 
German officers. 

In a letter to one of the authors, Chirila Ciuntu admitted as much, 
giving the lie to Guardist claims that they had been interred in con- 
centration camps. "They [were] offered a strange political asylum, 
because they were sent to special camps to work for German indus- 
try ... It was a political game. The presence of the Legionnaires in 
Germany represented, in Hitler's mind, a permanent threat to An- 
tonescu's government; in this way Hitler kept a tight hand over 
Antonescu's rule."' 1 

Ciuntu, one of several thousand Iron Guardists who surrendered 
after the abortive coup, didn't share the benign fate of his superiors 
at first. Although the Guard's atrocities in Romania demanded pun- 
ishment, the Romanian government knew that the German author- 
ities wouldn't allow a wholesale crackdown or dissolution of the 
Legion, a realization amply reinforced by the SS's role in whisking 
the leaders out of Bucharest. 

Given the narrow confines within which the Antonescu govern- 
ment found itself, it decided to pursue only the most flagrant crimi- 
nals among the remaining Guardists and even then to make sanitized 
charges against them. 

Among the hundred-odd men charged with insurrection and re- 
bellion was Chirila Ciuntu. He was found guilty of rebellion and 
sentenced to five years in prison and three years of interdiction (loss 
of civil rights). It was one of the more severe sentences passed by 
the Martial Court of Bucharest, but Ciuntu would never serve it. 
"The Nazis offered Legionnaires protection," he explained to Windsor 

"Otto von Bolschwing was never brought to justice for his role in harboring 
the Iron Guardists or for his other war crimes; after the war, he worked for the 
American army Counter-intelligence Corps, emigrated to the United States in 
1961, and remained a free man until his death in 1982. 



10 



Star reporter Lynda Powless. "I left in a German jeep with two SS 
officers; they took me to Bulgaria." 12 

Once in Germany, the Romanian fascists were housed in an SS 
"home," and photographs of the period show them relaxing in the 
sunshine. Viorel Trifa, the future archbishop in the United States, 
took the waters in a spa in Bavaria and beseeched an SS commandant 
for a special diet to nurse his ulcers. In their wartime exile, the Iron 
Guard continued to be ardent suitors for Nazi favor. 

"Your Excellency/' Iron Guard leader Sima wrote to Himmler in 
1944, "has surely heard that His Excellency Foreign Minister von 
Ribbentrop has authorized the formation of the topmost Romanian 
commandos of the Romanian national forces. Along with this body, 
a future Romanian army is to be prepared under my supervision. My 
wish is that out of the ranks of the best, Legionnaires will join the 
accomplished Waffen-SS in which they will, I am convinced, not 
only receive the best technical military training but, above all, the 
best political world view." 

Ciuntu was among the "ranks of the best"; in 1944 he joined a 
contingent of Iron Guardists who were fighting the Soviets on the 
Eastern Front. Sima remained in Germany, awaiting approval from 
the German high command to return to Romania and finish the job 
the Legion had begun in 1941. 

It was not to be. In August 1944, a new Romanian government 
signed an armistice with the Allies and declared war on Germany. 
The Germans responded by launching a massive air strike against 
Bucharest and racing the Legion leaders to Vienna in preparation for 
infiltrating them into Romania. Within a week, however, the Soviet 
army entered Romania, and the remnants of the Iron Guard fled to 
safety before the onslaught. Sima declared a government-in-exile in 
Vienna, a shadow government that did not disband until nine days 
after the death of Hitler in his bunker. 

Yaroslav Stetsko is chairman of the Anti-Bolshevik Bloc of Na- 
tions (ABN) and a major leader of the World Anti-Communist 
League. He was involved with the League even before its official 
founding in 1966. In journeys to Taiwan in 1956, 1957, 1961, and 
1964, and at many Asian People's Anti-Communist League confer- 
ences (the precursor to the World League), Stetsko pursued his long 
interest in Taiwan and its generalissimo, Chiang Kai-shek. Stetsko 



Z4 

found a reflection of his own beliefs in the ferocious anti-communist 
stance of the Taiwanese government and in its willingness to combat 
communism by any means necessary. In 1958, he took part in the 
preparatory conference of the World Anti-Communist League in 
Mexico City and was one of those most responsible for its ultimate 
creation. In 1970 ; he was elected to the executive board, the Leagued 
elite governing body. 

Today, Stetsko maintains his respectability and authority in anti- 
communist circles throughout the world. Those introducing him at 
receptions or forums describe him as a patriot and a freedom fighter 
as well as a "survivor of Nazi concentration camps." He has con- 
ferred with prominent conservatives, among them heads of state and 
American congressmen and senators. 

Stetsko has covered his tracks well. According to his official bi- 
ography, during World War II he fought against both the Soviets 
and the Germans in his struggle for Ukrainian independence. Thrown 
into the Nazi concentration camp at Sachsenhausen, so the account 
goes, "he was subjected there to continuous and inhuman torture 
which was to have a permanent effect later upon his physical con- 
dition." 

It is an interesting claim by one of the most important Nazi collab- 
orators alive today. 

In 1938, Stetsko's physical appearance was deceiving. It was hard 
to imagine that this son of a priest, with his thinning hair, sparse 
goatee, and round spectacles, was capable of anything at all mali- 
cious, let alone murder. But there were clues in the face: the thin lips 
were fixed in a permanent bitter sneer, and the eyes, cold and angry, 
glared out from behind the glasses with charismatic rage. Even in 
prison, there was no softening of the hatred, no weakness in the 
resolve to attack again; perhaps this was why the Nazis showed a 
special benevolence toward Yaroslav Stetsko. 

By the time the Nazis took notice of him, Stetsko had spent nearly 
two years in a Polish prison for his role in the murders of Polish 
government officials. As a leader of the Galician* branch of the Or- 
ganization of Ukrainian Nationalists (OUN), Stetsko's disdain for 
parliamentary rule and his proven willingness to liquidate its propo- 
nents were qualities the Germans were looking for. 



"Prcscnt-day southeastern Poland and western Ukraine S S R. 



11 



The Nazis saw the Ukrainians as potentially important allies. 
Their ideology— fanatical racism against ethnic Poles and Russians, 
and virulent hatred of Jews— meshed perfectly with the Germans'. In 
the late 1930s, they had grand plans for the Ukrainian nationalists, 
and they organized them in earnest while planning the invasion of 
Poland. The Germans even bandied about the idea of setting up a 
nominally independent Ukrainian government in Galicia under OUN 
control; this would depend on whether the Ukrainians could "pro- 
duce an uprising which would aim at the annihilation of the Jews 
and Poles." 13 

By 1938, the Nazis had compelling reasons to save Stetsko from 
penal obscurity. The previous year, a Soviet agent had slipped a 
bomb into the coat pocket of the pre-eminient pro-German Ukrainian 
leader and killed him. Since then, the OUN had lost much of its 
direction. Two opposing camps had formed: the cautious old guard, 
and the young radicals like Stetsko, bold and ready for war. Once 
plucked from jail, Stetsko became a driving force behind the creation 
of a new Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists, the OUN/B, led 
by Stefan Bandera. Bandera chose Stetsko to be his second-in-com- 
mand, forming an alliance that would last nineteen years. (Bandera 
would be assassinated on a Munich street by a KGB agent in 1959; 
Stetsko would go on to meet the president of the United States.) 

While the Germans had hoped to use Stetsko to unify the OUN, 
throughout the war they would support both major Ukrainian camps. 
The dirty work, however, would be OUN/B ; s chief domain. 

While preparations were under way for Operation Barbarossa, the 
invasion of the Soviet Union, the Nazis organized their Ukrainian 
helpers into regiments. One regiment, the Nightingales, which con- 
sisted mainly of Bandera-Stetsko followers, would be in the vanguard 
of the German invasion of the Ukraine wearing Wehrmacht uni- 
forms. The Nightingales' mission was to carry out sabotage and to 
engage the Red Army in rearguard skirmishes and guerrilla warfare. 14 
The OUN/B also formed a secret police, the Sluzhba Bezpeky, which 
would see to the purging of Jews, ethnic Russians, and Communist 
Party members for their Nazi allies; they would accomplish this mis- 
sion with terrible skill. Its chief was Mykola (Nicholas) Lebed, who, 
according to even a sympathetic writer, John Armstrong, "was to 
acquire for himself and his organization an unenviable reputation for 
ruthlessness." 15 Lebed was named third in command of OUN/B, 



23 



behind Bandera and Stetsko. He would be responsible for the murder 
of thousands of Germany's enemies in the Ukraine and of scores 
more in the displaced persons camps in Western Europe after the 
war. He lives today in New York City. 

When the Germans invaded the Soviet Union in June 1941, they 
were greeted by the people as liberators from the horrible repression 
of the Stalin regime. They struck deep into the heart of the Soviet 
empire as the Red Army fell back in disarray; tens of thousands 
deserted or surrendered. By June 30, 1941, advance units of the 
Wehrmacht had reached the city of Lvov. With them were the 
Ukrainian Nightingales, led by a German officer, Theodore Oberlan- 
der, and Yaroslav Stetsko. 

Stetsko immediately organized a "congress" in a small meeting- 
room. From the podium, he announced the creation of the Ukraini- 
an State, and named himself premier. Whether Stetsko thought he 
had tacit approval from the Nazis for the independence declaration 
or whether he was attempting to present them with a fait accompli 
is open to debate. But certainly the news, broadcast out of Lvov 
by Stetsko over the radio station, did not have the desired effect 
on his allies: The Germans were outraged, but, not wanting to 
alienate their Ukrainian surrogate soldiers, they vacillated. In the 
confusion, Stetsko scrambled for approval, crowing his obedience 
to the Nazis: 

The Ukrainian State will closely cooperate with great National So- 
cialist Germany which under the leadership of Adolf Hitler will create 
a New Order in Europe and throughout the world. The Ukrainian 
army will fight together with the allied German army for the New 
Order in the world. 16 

The shaky alliance held long enough for the average Ukrainian 
peasant to realize that the liberating Nazis and the OUN were just 
as brutal as the Red Army had been. The pogroms, code-named 
"Action Petlura," began within hours of Stetsko's arrival in Lvov. 
Jews, intellectuals, greater Russians, Communist Party officials— any- 
one suspected of opposing the "New Order"— were rounded up and 
executed in these joint operations of the Nazis and the Ukrainian 
nationalists. 

"The Galician capital of Lvov," wrote historian Raul Hilberg, "was 
the scene of a mass seizure by local inhabitants. In 'reprisal' for the 



14 

deportation of Ukrainians by the Soviets, 1000 members of the Jew- 
ish intelligentsia were driven together and handed over to the secu- 
rity police." 17 

This roundup took place on July 2, 1941 ; two days after Stetsko 
had arrived in Lvov and assumed the premiership of the Ukraine. 
During the period in which Stetsko was in Lvov and, by his own 
claim, in charge of the city, an estimated seven thousand residents, 
mostly Jews, were murdered. Tens of thousands more were exter- 
minated in the surrounding countryside by marauding OUN/B units. 
In the following four years, the entire Jewish population of Lvov— 
about one hundred thousand— and more than a million Jews in greater 
Ukraine would be annihilated by the Nazis and their coworkers, the 
Ukrainian auxiliary police. 

Moving with speed, the Einsatzgruppe (German mobile killing units) 
organized a network of local Ukrainian militias ; making them partly 
self-financing by drawing upon Jewish money to pay their salaries. 
The Ukrainians were used principally for dirty work— thus Einstatz- 
commando 4a went so far as to confine itself to the shooting of adults 
while commanding its Ukrainian helpers to shoot children. 18 

Stetsko would not be a witness to these later activities of his fol- 
lowers. On July 9 he, Bandera, and their immediate aides were placed 
under "honorary arrest" by the Germans because of the indepen- 
dence proclamation and sent to Berlin. After refusing to rescind the 
proclamation, they were placed in Sachsenhausen prison. 

Bandera and Stetsko were now quarantined in Germany, but 
this did not mean that the Germans had lost faith in the Ukraini- 
ans, or vice versa. The OUN/B continued to do the German's bid- 
ding at the same time as they fought for Ukrainian independence. 
While attacking units of the Red Army, the OUN/B also launched 
frequent purges of other partisan groups whom they suspected of 
communist or Russian sympathies. 19 For most of the rest of the 
war, their chief field commander was Mykola Lebed, who in turn 
carried out orders from Bandera and Stetsko. At least once, in 1943, 
Stetsko went to Poland to confer with Lebed; this was at a time 
when, according to his own account, he was languishing in a Nazi 
concentration camp. 

Having proved themselves trustworthy Nazi allies, many Ban- 
dera-Stetsko followers were later recruited to assist in the transfer of 



15 



Jews from the ghettos to the concentration camps or to serve as 
guards in the camps themselves. 

The Ukrainians were involved in the fate of Polish Jewry as perpetra- 
tors. The SS and PoLice employed Ukrainian units in ghetto-clearing 
operations, not only in the Galician district but also in such places as 
the Warsaw ghetto and the Lublin ghetto. The Ukrainians have never 
been considered pro-Jewish. 20 

As the war turned against the Germans, they increasingly relied 
on their nationalist allies. By 1944 ; Ukrainian assistance was desper- 
ately needed to harass the advancing Soviets and try to slow their 
advance. To this end ; the Ukrainian Insurgent Army (UPA) was 
formed, and Stetsko, Bandera, and other leaders were released from 
their confinement-to-quarters in Germany to lead the struggle. To- 
ward the end of the war, when it was clear that the 'Thousand Year 
Reich" was finished, some Ukrainian elements also began sniping at 
the retreating Germans; this allowed Stetsko later to claim that the 
UPA fought the Nazis as well as the Soviets, an assertion that con- 
tinues to serve him well. 

Stejpan Hefer was a short, bespectacled man, one who didn't 
attract much notice at World Anti-Communist League conferences— 
until he took the podium. Then his fiery oratory, the harsh, rapid- 
fire succession of his words, the wild gestures of his hands, the strong 
timbre of his voice, all served to energize— and amuse— the crowd. 

Until his death in 1973, Hefer was an important and frequent 
visitor to the United States. As the world leader of the Croatian 
Liberation Movement (known by its Croatian acronym, HOP) ; he 
oversaw a network that spanned the globe. From his headquarters 
in Buenos Aires ; Hefer established Central Boards of Croatian Soci- 
eties designed to coordinate the activities of HOP chapters in Europe, 
Australia, and the United States. Those activities were directed against 
the Yugoslav government of Josip Broz "Tito." 

This campaign operated by rallying Croatian emigre groups, by 
building support within their communities and churches, by holding 
and- Yugoslav rallies, and by joining organizations such as the World 
Anti-Communist League. On another level, the work was less be- 



Z6 

nign: through hijackings, assassinations, bombings, and sabotage of 
civilian aircraft, the Croatians waged a war of terror. 

Hefer did not always enjoy so much power as he wielded in the 
HOP and in the World Anti-Communist League. In the spring of 
1941, he had played a subservient role to another Croatian, Ante 
Pavelic. 

The two men had had much in common. Both had been lawyers, 
both were middle-aged Roman Catholics, both had been members 
of parliament, and both were officials of a terrorist group called Us- 
tasha (roughly translated "to rise" or "to awaken"). Both men par- 
ticipated in the genocide of their countrymen, in murders carried out 
with sadism that would shock even their Nazi allies. Ante Pavelic, 
as fpoglavnik (Fiihrer) of the nation of Croatia, and Stejpan Hefer, as 
governor-general of Baranja County, assured their places in history 
atop the mutilated bodies of nearly a million victims. (After the war, 
the similarity of their lives would continue, for both would escape 
to Argentina to resurrect their movement in exile.) 

The nation of Yugoslavia in the 1920s was an amalgam of six 
republics, with four main languages, a half-dozen distinct ethnic 
groups, and three religions. In the complex maze of Balkan politics 
of the time, this made the country unusually easy prey: Yugoslavia's 
neighbors could always find one group or another to work toward 
the dissolution of the nation. A favorite such group were the ultrana- 
tionalistic Croatians. 

Croatia, a large area in northern Yugoslavia, has never been a 
region of either distinct borders or homogeneous people. At the out- 
set of World War II, Croatia had a population of about three million 
Catholic Croatians, nearly two million Serbs (most belonging to the 
Orthodox faith), a million Moslems, and about fifty thousand Jews. 
Nationalistic Croatian zealots were pounding home a doctrine of 
racism and historical revisionism to appeal to the suspicions and prej- 
udices of the people and gain support. The extremists had a solution 
for the dilemma of the melting-pot nature of Croatia: the removal of 
non-Catholic, non-Croatian citizens either by deportation or liqui- 
dation. Ante Pavelic and his Ustasha movement were the voice for 
these fanatics. 

In order to make Croatia racially and religiously pure, it was, of 
course, first necessary to destroy the Yugoslav state, and to this 
end Pavelic could depend on the help of foreigners. By 1929, when 



17 



the government of King Alexander clamped down on the Croatian 
nationalists, Pavelic had his external contacts well in place. He 
simply led his Ustashi into training camps in Italy and Hungary; 
from these bases, they kept up a steady terror campaign against 
the Yugoslav government, which culminated in the assassination 
of King Alexander in Marseille in 1934, a killing that Pavelic per- 
sonally supervised. 

The Ustashi emulated Adolf Hitler and Benito Mussolini, cloaking 
themselves in the physical trappings of fascism and adopting the 
upraised arm salute and the goose-step march. Under Italian super- 
vision, wearing the black uniforms of the Italian fascist militia, the 
Croatians prepared for guerrilla operations and the "liberation" of 
their homeland. 

That opportunity came in March 1941, when the Yugoslav peo- 
ple rebelled after the government signed an accord with Hitler. 

"It is especially important," Hitler demanded as the Germans pre- 
pared to invade, "that the blow against Yugoslavia be carried out 
with inexorable severity." 

A Ustasha unit entered Zagreb, the Croatian capital, with the 
German army on April 10 and declared the independent nation of 
Croatia in the name of Ante Pavelic. Decamping from Mussolini's 
Italy, Pavelic and his followers, carrying Italian rifles, arrived in Za- 
greb. A thug and a sadist, Pavelic was not about to show himself to 
be an unreliable ally of the Nazis and immediately set about purify- 
ing the new Croatian nation. The new governor-general of the Ve- 
liki Zupan (county) of Baranja, Stejpan Hefer, would prove himself 
to be the model of a fascist bureaucrat, so endearing himself to the 
poglavnik that their partnership would last until 1959. Hefer zealously 
put the Ustasha creed to practice in Baranja. 

The principles of the Ustashi were officially declared to be "the actual 
needs of the Croatian people." In theory, this meant "the virtues of 
ancient heroism and courage." ... In practice, it meant that the 
slaughter of Serbs and the deportation of Jews to the Nazi SS was 
official state policy, carried out by vigilante bands of Croatian terror 
squads who traveled the hills and valleys in search of families. 21 

The Ustashi did not dispatch their victims with the clinical effi- 
ciency of their German masters. Rather, they derived pleasure from 
torturing before killing. Most of their victims were not shot but were 



28 



strangled, drowned, burned, or stabbed to death. Serbs were herded 
into Orthodox churches by Ustashi who then barred the doors and 
torched the timbers. One captured photograph shows Ustashi smil- 
ing for the camera before a table displaying the body of a Serbian 
businessman whom they had castrated, disemboweled, carved with 
knives, and burned beyond recognition. 

"The massacres began in earnest at the end of June [1941]/' wrote 
Fitzroy Maclean, Britain's military liaison to the anti-Ustasha parti- 
sans, "and continued throughout the summer, growing in scope and 
intensity until in August the terror reached its height. The whole of 
Bosnia ran with blood. Bands of Ustase roamed the countryside with 
knives, bludgeons and machine guns, slaughtering Serbian men, 
women and little children, desecrating Serbian churches, murdering 
Serbian priests, laying waste Serbian villages, torturing, raping burn- 
ing, drowning. Killing became a cult, an obsession." 22 

The Ustashi competed among themselves on how many of "the 
enemy" they could kill. In order to impress the poglavnik— Pavelic— 
and be promoted or singled out for "heroism," the bands would pose 
with their victims before cameras. Captured photographs— they are 
too grisly to reproduce— show Ustashi beheading a Serb with an axe, 
driving a saw through the neck of another, carrying a head through 
the streets of Zagreb. In all of them, the Ustashi are smiling and 
crowding themselves into the picture, as if to prove they had a role 
in the atrocity. "Some Ustase collected the eyes of Serbs they had 
killed, sending them, when they had enough, to the Poglavnik for 
his inspection or proudly displaying them and other human organs 
in the cafes of Zagreb." 23 

Eventually, the obscenities that the Ustashi reveled in committing 
were too much even for some of the Germans and the Catholic 
clergy who had initially backed them. 24 The Nazis went so far as to 
intervene and disband one Ustasha regiment in 1942 in reaction to 
the atrocities it had perpetrated. Italian troops stationed in the coastal 
areas Mussolini had annexed hid Jews and Serbs and refused entry 
to Ustasha bands, declaring that to do otherwise was "incompatible 
with the honor of the Italian Army." 

But as governor-general of Baranja County, Hefer was able to 
fulfill his duty. "In this capacity he issued orders for the mass depor- 
tation of the Serbian and Jewish population of the area concerned 
particularly in the Podrevska Slatina district. These people were taken 



2.9 



by Ustashi men to different concentration camps and partly driven 
out into Serbia. Most of those held in camps perished. ... In the 
Slatina district alone 35 Serbian families were so depossessed. Besides 
these there were driven from their homes all Jewish families and 
they were sent to many camps; any further traces of them disap- 
peared in the Auschwitz butchery." 25 

Although it could be said that Hefer had an easier time than other 
Ustasha governor-generals since the terrain of Baranja County is flat 
and agricultural and hence afforded few hiding places for the hunted 
Serbs and Jews ; he was promoted in 1944 to minister of food for his 
exemplary record and transferred to Zagreb. He remained there until 
the government collapsed before the advancing Soviets in 1945. Then 
he joined Pavelic in the Ustasha exodus to Austria, where both would 
slip away and keep the fires of Ustasha burning in exile. 



THREE 



Our organization was never a study group, and it mil never 
be one. ABN is an organization of fighters in the first place. 
Into it should come only people of courage, men dedicated to 
the liberation of their countries, and ready for sacrifice. We 
have no time and no room for orators. ABN is for action. 

^>r. C. J. Untaru, 
ABN official, 
London, 1968 



The iron guard, OUN 7 and Ustasha movements did not ex- 
pire in the ashes of the Third Reich. The refugee relief offices of the 
Vatican Church provided them with new passports and false iden- 
tities and protected them until they could be secreted out of Rome. 
American and British intelligence agencies recruited hundreds of them 
to work in their propaganda and spying missions directed at Soviet- 
controlled Eastern Europe ; then smuggled them out through "rat 
lines" in Trieste and Genoa. 1 

In contrast to many of the German Nazis who escaped ; the Roma- 
nian, Ukrainian, and Croatian fascists did not "disappear" to end 
their days quietly. In exile in South America ; Western Europe ; Can- 
ada ; and the United States ; they rebuilt their networks and kept alive 
their ideology ; their hatred of the Jews 7 and their cries for a New 
Order. They formed front organizations with benign-sounding names 
and attended international forums where they orated on the necessity 
of combating communism. They rose to positions of prominence 



31 



within emigre communities and in political groups in their adopted 
countries. In the United States ; they became Republican and Demo- 
cratic Party offlcials ; attended receptions in the White House ; and 
met with presidents ; vice-presidents ; congressmen and senators. 
United under the banner of the Anti-Bolshevik Bloc of Nations ; they 
helped found the World Anti-Communist League. 

After the war ; the Legionnaires of the Archangel Michael melted 
away ; concealing their identity in the chaos of postwar Europe. Most 
of those who were trapped in Romania by the approaching Soviet 
army or who were repatriated after the war were executed by the 
new communist regime. Some escaped to South America. Others 
remained in displaced persons (DP) camps in Western Europe until 
they were processed and deemed innocent of war crimes and fascist 
involvement; they were then allowed to emigrate to countries where 
they had relatives or sponsors. A large number of them came to 
Canada and the United States ; often under the aegis of the Romanian 
Orthodox Church. 

Horia Sima ; the man most responsible for the massacres of 1940 
and 1941, slipped across the Austrian border into Germany in May 
1945. 

In October 1945, we came out of hiding, thinking that we were the 
only survivors. We thought that the other Legionnaires had been cap- 
tured by the Allies and handed over to the Soviets, as had happened 
to other groups of refugees. We discovered that they were not only 
free but that they had regrouped and organized committees to help 
the refugees in all the occupied zones. 

This exception was granted to the Iron Guard because we had been 
subjected to German concentration camps. It is true that we formed a 
government in Vienna and that we fought on the German side to the 
end. However, the Allies took into consideration the fact that we had 
no authority over any territory, that we had not participated in the 
declaration of war and that we had not committed any crimes against 
humanity. 2 

The Iron Guard leader eventually landed in an Italian DP camp, 
where he avoided detection by assuming the name "Crivat" until he 
was able to secure his escape. Taking on yet another identity, he 
entered France before finally fleeing to Spain, where he lives today. 

By his own account, Chirila Ciuntu's escape was not as dramatic. 



32 



At the end of the war, he worked for a farmer in Germany, then as 
a painter in France, until sailing to Argentina. There he found two 
benefactors, a doctor "who had a good friend at the Canadian Em- 
bassy" and a priest in the Romanian Orthodox Church in Canada. 
Under their patronage, Ciuntu emigrated to Canada. Still wanted in 
Romania for war crimes, he went to work in the steel mills and 
slipped into the emigre community of Windsor. It ended his flight, 
but not his mission, for in North America he was reunited with 
Viorel Trifa. 

Trifa, who had exhorted the Legionnaires to war against "the 
kikes" in the name of National Socialism, escaped to Italy in 1945. 
There he taught at a missionary college for five years before emi- 
grating to the United States. In 1952, he was named bishop of the 
Romanian Orthodox Episcopate of America. Three years later, he 
led the opening prayer for the United States Senate, the invitation 
extended by Vice-President Richard Nixon. 

By then, Trifa was using the Romanian Orthodox Church to keep 
the Iron Guard movement alive in parishes throughout the United 
States and Canada. Under the auspices of the World Church Service, 
according to a 1972 official Church publication, "the Episcopate in- 
augurated a program of theological training in this country and of 
recruiting parish priests from among Romanian Orthodox priests 
who left Romania after World War II due to the communist takeover 
in Romania. Most of the priests who took refuge in Europe or on 
the American continent were given a chance to serve under the ju- 
risdiction of the Episcopate." 

Those recruited were often not priests but Iron Guard killers. At 
least seventeen of the forty-six priests listed in the publication have 
been linked to the Iron Guard by Holocaust researchers. By the 1970s, 
those that had skinned children alive in 1941 could be found 
throughout the United States and Canada on pulpits, clad this time 
not in green shirts but in priests' robes. Churches regularly held 
masses in memory of fallen Legionnaires, altars were adorned with 
Legion flags, and the fascist salute was exchanged. 

As the spiritual leader, Trifa oversaw a complex and multifaceted 
fascist network in the United States. The Iron Guard was resurrected 
not only through the Church but also through various front groups, 
newspapers, and periodicals. 3 

Ultimately, Trifa's past caught up with him. Almost solely due 



33 



to the efforts of Dr. Charles Kremer, a Romanian Jew whose family 
had been annihilated by the Iron Guard, Trifa was stripped of his 
citizenship after years of court cases and was deported to Portugal in 
1984. Even then, his "spiritual children" did not abandon him. 

Your Eminence ; 
When you came: 

We were few; but with your help we are now many. . . . 

We were divided; you leave us united. . . . 

We were weak in our faith; you made us strong. . . . 

We were unaware of our heritage; now we are proud of our origin. 4 

The political arm of the Iron Guard is still directed by Horia Sima 
in Madrid. Over the years, he has published several books, which 
carefully avoid discussion of Legionary atrocities or blame them on 
agents provocateurs. Not wishing to dwell on the past, Sima's Iron 
Guard has joined the global anti-communist movement and has 
achieved legitimacy through its international affiliations, including 
the World Anti-Communist League. 5 

Chirila Ciuntu, a Romanian delegate to World Anti-Communist 
League conferences, remains an active Guardist. According to How- 
ard Blum in his book Wanted!, Ciuntu is "the most important figure 
in the resurrection of the Iron Guard in America. As treasurer of the 
American legionnaires, he collects the contributions from the Ameri- 
can nests and personally delivers these monies to Sima in Spain. . . . 
'What do I do in Spain? I buy books, anti-Communist books. We 
find that Jews are Communists. We find that everywhere we live 
the Jews are trouble/ " 6 Through this husky retired steelworker ; the 
Legionnaires of "Captain" Codreanu, the assassins of at least three 
Romanian prime ministers, the killers of at least a thousand of their 
countrymen, the men who urged "Romanization" through the erad- 
ication of Jews and Freemasons, have formed a liaison with their 
compatriots around the world. 

With the collapse of Nazi Germany, hundreds of thousands of 
Ukrainians found themselves in displaced persons camps at the end 
of the war. Among them were thousands of Nazi collaborators, in- 
cluding Stetsko and his followers. Although the camps were searched 
for possible war criminals, the Ukrainians had little to fear, for one 
of their last missions before fleeing the Soviet onslaught had been to 



34 



gather up every stamp ; seal ; and letterhead that might prove helpful 
in exile. In safehouses ; they forged passports ; produced bogus semi- 
nary records ; and even made up fake Nazi hit lists of Ukrainians 
slated for execution for anti-fascist activities. Those on the lists ; of 
course ; were the Ukrainians who had been steadfastly loyal to their 
German masters. With such documents in hand ; the collaborators 
simply headed west into the displaced persons camps administered 
by the British or the Americans. 

In the camps ; the Bandera-Stetsko Ukrainians ; with their secret 
police still intact ; continued the pogroms that they had initiated in 
the Ukraine. Rival nationalists, Jews ; even fellow collaborators— any- 
one who had evidence or firsthand knowledge of the genocide in the 
Ukraine and who could not be counted on to keep silent— were mur- 
dered. As a result of these purges, the OUN emerged as the "voice" 
of Ukrainian emigres. 7 

Most importantly ; the Bandera-Stetsko forces were aided by their 
British and American captors, who recruited hundreds to conduct 
espionage activities against the Soviet Union. An American reporter 
who toured the camps in 1948 discovered that the Counter-intelli- 
gence Corps "concerns itself almost wholly with anti-Soviet intelli- 
gence. This work has led it into liaison activity with the present 
Nazi underground ; so its interest in apprehending former allies of the 
Third Reich has dwindled. 778 

Harry Rositzke, a former high-ranking CIA official, refers to this 
policy in oblique fashion in his book ; The CIA's Secret Operations: 

Agent candidates were recruited from displaced persons camps in Ger- 
many, from among recent Soviet military defectors in Europe, Tur- 
key, Iran and South Korea, and through the auspices of various emigre 
groups. Military defectors and men sponsored by an emigre group 
were carefully interrogated and assessed by their prospective case of- 
ficers. Our spotters in the DP camps helped interview recent refugees 
and brought likely candidates to our notice. 

What Mr. Rositzke did not know, or is not admitting, is that 
among these candidates were a good many Nazi collaborators and 
men wanted for war crimes. The emigre groups he refers to were 
usually ones like the OUN. The American officials involved with 
the OUN recruitment program revised the group 7 s history, stating 
that they had "fought bitterly against the Germans. 7 ' It is a claim 



35 



embraced today by Stetsko but contested by most experts. 9 Among 
them is John Lof tus, author of The Belarus Secret, who spent two years 
as an investigator for the Nazi-hunting Office of Special Investiga- 
tions in the Justice Department: 

This [revision] was a complete fabrication. The secret internal files of 
the OUN clearly show how most of its members worked for the 
Gestapo or SS as policemen, executioners, partisan hunters and mu- 
nicipal officials. The OUN contribution to the German war effort was 
significant, including the raising of volunteers for several SS divi- 
sions. 10 

With such prominent benefactors, many Eastern European Nazi 
collaborators not only ensured that their war crimes would go un- 
punished, but were also able to reorganize. With American govern- 
ment funds, the OUN formed a regional anti-communist federation, 
the Anti-Bolshevik Bloc of Nations (ABN), which, according to a 
former high ABN official, also received funding from Great Britain 
and "substantial-" assistance from the postwar West German govern- 
ment. 

Much has been written about different Nazi networks— ODESSA, 
Kamaraden-werk, etc.— that were created after the war to enable war 
criminals to escape and work in exile toward the formation of a 
Fourth Reich. No other organization, however, approaches the scope, 
depth, or influence of the Anti-Bolshevik Bloc of Nations. Since its 
inception, it has grown to become the largest and most important 
umbrella for Nazi collaborators in the world. The organizer and 
chairman of this "ex-Nazi International" is none other than Yaroslav 
Stetsko. 

Though still largely controlled by the Ukrainians under Stetsko, 
the ABN now has chapters from other Soviet republics as well and 
from all of the Eastern European countries under Soviet control. A 
prime criterion for membership appears to be fealty to the cause of 
National Socialism; ABN officers constitute a virtual Who's Who of 
those responsible for the massacre of millions of civilians in the 
bloodiest war in history. 

After Stetsko, the most important official of the Bloc in the 1940s 
was the chairman of its council of nations, Alfred Berzins. Described 
by Stetsko as "also a former prisoner of Nazi concentration camps," 
Berzins was in reality a Latvian who volunteered to serve in a Nazi- 



36 



sponsored police battalion responsible for the roundup and extermi- 
nation of his nation's Jews and Communist Party members. In 
February 1942, he joined the Latvian SS and was awarded the Ger- 
man Iron Cross, First Grade. In exile, he was secretary of the Central 
Committee of the Dangavas Vanagi ("Danaga Hawks"), an organi- 
zation composed of the Latvian SS officers and government ministers 
who oversaw the Final Solution in their country. Until his death, he 
lived under his own name in Hampton Roads, Virginia. 

As chairman of the ABN Central Committee in the 1950s— a po- 
sition he continues to hold— Stetsko overcame nationalistic differ- 
ences and embraced fascists from all regions. Today, Byelorussian, 
Hungarian, Bulgarian, Romanian, and Croatian Nazi collaborators, 
to name but a few, are all represented in the ABN. The Croatian 
delegation is made up of Ustashi from the Croatian Liberation Move- 
ment of Pavelic and Hefer. The Bulgarian chapter is the Bulgarian 
National Front Inc., the front group for the fascist Bulgarian Legion- 
naries of World War II. The Romanian delegation is composed of 
Iron Guardists. 

The bloc has not even taken the basic step of drawing some of its 
officers from younger, untainted members. On a 1980 list of its cen- 
tral committee members, the overall leaders of its various activities, 
at least seven of the eleven listed are accused of being war criminals. 

Through its headquarters in Munich and its main branch in New 
York, the ABN has gone a long way toward promoting a version of 
modern history that bears no resemblance to fact. All mentions of 
the various members' services to the Nazis have been purged in favor 
of laudatory passages about the great sacrifices they endured in their 
struggle for world freedom and independence. 

Despite its origins and membership, the ABN does not meet in 
secret covens in mountain hideaways. It is an extremely visible in- 
ternational network that publishes magazines, holds demonstrations, 
and lobbies elected officials in the United States and Western Europe. 
It has branches in England, the Netherlands, Belgium, Canada, Spain, 
Italy, and Argentina. It created the European Freedom Council, whose 
Western European members consist of prominent conservatives, as 
well as the requisite Nazi collaborators. Chapters of American Friends 
of the ABN have been established in cities throughout the United 
States, including Detroit, Chicago, Los Angeles, Cleveland, and 



37 



Miami. Its officers meet with congressmen and senators to solicit 
support, and both Democratic and Republican officials have been 
honored guests at its functions. Serving on its honorary committees 
have been high-ranking former military officers, including General 
Daniel O. Graham (former director of the Defense Intelligence 
Agency), General Bruce Holloway (former commander in chief of 
the Strategic Air Command), and General Sir Walter Walker (former 
British commander in chief of Allied Forces-North). 

An examination of one ABN chapter's activities in one year alone 
illustrates the degree of access to elected officials that they have at- 
tained. In September 1981, the Chicago chapter of American Friends 
of the ABN elected new officers. Among those elected were John 
Kosiak, a Byelorussian Nazi collaborator; Romanian Iron Guardist 
Alexander Ronnett; Anton Bonifacic, a former official in the Cro- 
atian Ustasha foreign ministry; and George Paprikoff, who had be- 
longed to the pro-Nazi Bulgarian Legionary movement. The 
following month, they accompanied the visiting Yaroslav Stetsko as 
he addressed a joint session of the Illinois state congress and had a 
private audience with Governor Jim Thompson. In June 1982, sev- 
eral members went to Washington, where "they were briefed by 
CIA and FBI officials, Secretary of the Department of Interior James 
Watt, Chairman of the Board of Governors of the Federal Reserve 
System, and Secretary of the Department of Commerce Malcolm 
Baldridge, as well as have had [sic] an opportunity to privately con- 
verse with Senators Charles H. Percy and Alan J. Dixon and Con- 
gressman Henry J. Hyde." 1 1 

Today, in Ronald Reagan, the ABN has found the closest thing 
ever to a White House ally. On July 13, 1983, Yaroslav Stetsko, a 
man who went to prison for participating in the murder of Polish 
officials, who once proclaimed his devotion to the Nazis, whose fol- 
lowers assisted in the slaughter of Jews in the Ukraine, sat in the 
center of the front row of a reception hall to hear Reagan announce, 
"Your dream is our dream. Your hope is our hope." Afterward, he 
shook the president's hand and posed for photographs. 

"Whatever we may think of Reagan," Roman Zwaryz, an ABN 
official, told a reporter in 1984, "the Captive Nations Week cere- 
monies during the Reagan Administration have been at least an in- 
dicator of a basic, fundamental shift in American foreign policy and 
it has led to certain tactical changes that have benefited us. For the 



38 



first time in twenty, twenty-five years, we are being consulted as to 
the content of [Radio Liberty] broadcasts being sent into the Ukraine. 
Prior to the Reagan Presidency, no one in the foreign policy elite in 
the U.S. saw it even necessary to contact us." 

The effect of those consultations could be seen in 1985; at the 
beginning of Reagan's second term in office, congressional investi- 
gators found that Radio Liberty and Radio Free Europe were broad- 
casting "unacceptable material . . . characterized as anti-Semitic, anti- 
Catholic or even anti-Western" into the Soviet bloc. Among the 
offending broadcasts was "a positive description of the Nazi unit 
Galizien [Galician SS], which was responsible for allowing Ukraini- 
ans to murder thousands of Jews in Lvov." 12 

From the forests of Zhytomyr to Washington DC, from the journal, 
Our Front in 1940 to the White House, from the OUN Manifesto of 
1940, the political basis of the ABN, to this year's grand commemo- 
ration of the ABN's fortieth anniversary, to the raising of the ABN 
emblem in the hallowed halls of Congress, in this citadel of freedom 
. . . the road has been hard and difficult. . . . We were able to traverse 
the hard and bitter road from the forests of Zhytomyr to the White 
House only with your continuous support!— ABN Central Commit- 
tee, 1983 13 

Perhaps no other European fascist group escaped quite as intact as 
the Croatian Ustasha. Although thousands of lesser officials and sol- 
diers were captured by either the Soviet army or Tito's partisans (and 
almost always summarily executed), virtually the entire leadership 
escaped. 

Responsible for the slaughter of a million of their countrymen, the 
Ustashi were able to elude justice through a combination of Allied 
incompetence, Vatican complicity, the chaos of postwar Europe, the 
mutual suspicions of the United States and the Soviet Union, the 
generous assistance of the Argentine and Spanish governments, and 
the solidarity of Croatian emigres in every part of the world. 

Thousands of Ustashi retreated with the German troops in May 
1945 and attempted to surrender to British forces at the Austrian 
border. 14 When the British refused them entry, the Ustashi impro- 
vised. Ante Pavelic clipped his recognizable bushy eyebrows, donned 
a beard, and, with an Argentine passport, slipped into Austria under 
the name "Ramirez." He hid in the Convent of St. Gilgin until 



39 



picked up by British occupation forces. He was released and surfaced 
two years later in Italy dressed as a priest and secreted in another 
convent. It is believed that from there, with a new Argentine pass- 
port under the name "Pablo Aranyos," he sailed to Buenos Aires in 
1948. 

Stejpan Hefer also escaped into Austria. He was there on August 
19 ; 1946 ; when the Yugoslav government filed documents asking 
for his return to Yugoslavia to stand trial for war crimes. The Ameri- 
can and British authorities were apparently unable to locate the for- 
mer governor-general among those in the displaced persons camps, 
for he surfaced a year later in Italy. From there he sailed to join his 
poglavnik in Argentina. 

Hefer was helped out of Europe by the most important Croatian 
escape route, which operated out of the Instituto di Santa Jeronimus 
(Institute of St. Jerome) at 132 Tomaselli Street in Rome. This Cath- 
olic foundation, run by Fathers Draganovic and Levasic, facilitated 
the escape of thousands of Ustashi to South America. 

"The organization [St. Jerome]," U.S. State Department agent 
Vincent La Vista reported in 1947, "provides free food, board and 
eventually clothing to its members. It would appear that necessary 
sums come from Vatican circles, who had previously actively sup- 
ported this organization in 1923-1941. Membership of Ustascha 
and Catholic religion are compulsory for help and assistance in leav- 
ing Italy." 15 

The Institute provided passports for fugitive Ustashi through two 
sympathetic officials in the foreigner's police branch of the Italian 
government. Once the passports were signed by the Italian officials, 
Father Levasic would deliver them to the Argentine consulate, where 
immigration permits were quickly issued. Shipping space was then 
arranged for the next available space on a ship bound for Argentina. 
In Buenos Aires, the refugees could receive assistance from a group 
of exiled Croatian Catholic monks. In this way, as many as five 
hundred Ustashi a month were able to slip away. 16 

Besides whatever aid they may have received from sympathetic 
priests or fellow fascists, the Ustashi were also greatly assisted in 
their escape by the simple fact that no one was really looking for 
them. In 1948, the undersecretary of state for foreign affairs of Great 
Britain announced that, in spite of the fact that Yugoslavia had pe- 
titioned for the extradition of eighteen hundred Ustashi to stand trial 



40 



for war crimes, the British government would assist in the cases of 
only nineteen, "who rendered such signal service to the enemy that 
it would be difficult if not impossible for us to justify a refusal to 
consider surrendering them." 

Among those select nineteen was Pavelic, whom the British had 
previously captured and released. As for the others who were wanted 
for war crimes, including Stejpan Hefer, "we propose to take no 
further action and we will not now accept any fresh requests for 
surrender. We feel that it is time for this matter to be brought to an 
end." 17 

Portraying themselves as victims of communist persecution whose 
only "crimes" were to be Croatian patriots, the Ustashi quickly set 
up front groups in their exile communities. In 1956, Pavelic founded 
the Croatian Liberation Movement (HOP), with its headquarters and 
its supreme council in Buenos Aires. Stejpan Hefer, the loyal hench- 
man, was named to the supreme council. 

In exile, Hefer made no attempt to hide his allegiance to the Us- 
tasha cause or his bitterness at the United States and Great Britain 
for having failed to accept the Croatians as allies: "The great Western 
powers preferred to fight against the idea of nationalism because of 
their own selfish reasons. . . . The Western democratic powers also 
accepted the propaganda of Tito and the Yugoslav Communists and 
proclaimed Croatian nationalism and Croatian revolutionary struggle 
for freedom . . . under the leadership of the Croatian USTASHA 
Movement as nazi-fascism."' [e 

After rival Croatians attempted to assassinate Pavelic the follow- 
ing year, the pogkvnik sought refuge in Spain. He lived quietly and 
reclusively in Madrid until his death from natural causes in December 
1959. He is buried in a secret cemetery outside Madrid. 

On Pavelic ; s death, the leadership of the HOP passed to Stejpan 
Hefer. Other factions appeared, each claiming to be the true inheritor 
of the Ustasha creed; some were more than willing to display their 
adherence to Pavelic's teachings by acts of terror. One, the Croatian 
Revolutionary Brotherhood, a hit squad formed in Australia in 1961, 
is composed mainly of second-generation Croatians who have main- 
tained close ties with the old Ustasha network. 

The brotherhood has been responsible for much of the "secret 
war" waged against the Yugoslavian government during the past 
fifteen years, including the bombing of a Yugoslav passenger plane 



41 



in 1972 that killed twenty-seven people and the 1976 hijacking of a 
TWA plane in New York that resulted in the death of a New York 
City policeman. And, like their older compatriots, the new genera- 
tion of Ustasha has shown itself to be willing to rely on the help of 
sympathetic third parties. 

Two Croatian terrorists, assisted by five conspirators on the out- 
side, entered the Yugoslav Embassy in Stockholm in April 1971. 
Their target was Vladimir Rolovic, the Yugoslav ambassador and 
the man who two years earlier had given the Australian government 
a report on Croatian terrorist activities originating there. For exposing 
their operations, Rolovic's punishment was death. After binding and 
taunting the ambassador, the Croatians killed him, instantly becom- 
ing causes celebres in Croatian emigre circles around the world. 

In reaction to their subsequent life sentences, three other Croatians 
hijacked a Swedish plane in September 1 972, demanding the release 
of their seven comrades. The Swedes released them and all except 
one, who refused to leave the Swedish prison, were then given asy- 
lum in Spain. They contacted the vacationing Paraguayan president, 
General Alfredo Stroessner, in West Germany in 1973. 

Stroessner, moved by their plight, agreed to take them in; seasoned 
"anti-communist freedom fighters" were hard to come by. The Para- 
guayan president immediately put them to work training his coun- 
try's army and police. One, Jozo Damjanovic, would later kill the 
Uruguayan ambassador to Paraguay (mistaking him for the new Yu- 
goslav ambassador), while another, Miro Baresic, would be discov- 
ered serving as a bodyguard at the Paraguayan Embassy in 
Washington and be deported back to Sweden. 

The leader of the Croatian killers was Dinko Sakic of the Ustashi. 
Sakic is wanted both for his World War II war crimes as a concen- 
tration camp commandant and for his role as Pavelic's chief of cab- 
inet. He is accused by the Yugoslav government of coordinating much 
of the anti- Yugoslav reign of terror in the 1970s. In 1979, he attended 
the World Anti-Communist League conference in Paraguay. 

The Ustashi and their progeny have sought to keep themselves in 
fighting form for the day when they will "liberate" Croatia. Cro- 
atians were recruited as mercenaries by Rafael Trujillo in 1959 for 
help in putting down the rebellion against his savage rule of the 
Dominican Republic. In the 1960s, Croatian mercenaries fought in 
the Congo, and Croatian exiles in Australia reportedly offered that 



42 

government a thousand men to help out in the Vietnam war. In 
1972, in a mission dubbed Operation Phoenix, twenty Croatian 
nationalists slipped into Yugoslavia on a combat mission, only to be 
wiped out by the Yugoslavian army. 

The Ustashi continue to have a great deal of strength within Cro- 
atian emigre communities throughout the world, including in the 
United States. They now portray themselves as "democrats," "in 
harmony with the American tradition of freedom and indepen- 
dence." But such Croatian newspapers as Danica and Nasa Nada, the 
latter the official newspaper of the Croatian Catholic Union of the 
United States, continue to pay reverence to their fallen froglavtiik and 
his Ustasha cause. 19 

The Ustashi have managed to get their voices and demands heard 
not only through acts of terrorism but also through the forum of 
international organizations like the World Anti-Communist League. 
After the death of Hefer in 1973, his place as head of the Croatian 
chapter of the League was taken by Anton Bonifacic, another former 
Ustasha official, living in Chicago. As president of the fallen Pavelic's 
Croatian Liberation Movement, Bonifacic now represents Croatia at 
League conferences, giving speeches and passing resolutions on the 
continuing struggle for the independent state of Croatia, liberally re- 
writing history in doing so. 

Whereas . . . the Croatian Nation was subjected to the unprecedented 
genocide in which massacre about one million of Croatians were 
slaughtered by Communists or Serbs, who were opposed to the Cro- 
atian self-determination and national independence; 
Therefore, the 11th. conference of the WACL resolves ... to declare 
that the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia, this artificial creation 
of Versailles et [sic] Yalta, should be substituted by free, independent 
and democratic states. 20 

Interestingly, Taiwan, the chief sponsor of the WACL, is one of 
only two nations in the world to recognize the Croatian Liberation 
Movement as a legitimate government-in-exile. 

The extent to which the Ustashi have been able to influence world 
opinion and portray reports of their past crimes as nothing more than 
communist propaganda is perhaps best illustrated by the machina- 
tions over April 10, 1941. 

April 10, 1941, was the day the Germans invaded Yugoslavia and 



43 



established the Ustasha regime. Today, among both the old Ustashi 
and the new ; April 10 is known as Croatian Independence Day; to 
Yugoslavians, especially Serbs and Jews ; it is remembered as the day 
their Holocaust began. During his tenure as governor of California, 
Ronald Reagan passed a resolution recognizing the date as Indepen- 
dent Croatia Day as a favor to his Croatian constituents. He later 
rescinded the proclamation and apologized to the Yugoslav govern- 
ment when informed of the true significance of April 10. 

A simple, if embarrassing, mistake; but others haven't picked up 
the cue. In a pamphlet put out by the National Republican Heritage 
Groups Council, a branch of the Republican Party, entitled "1984 
Guide to Nationality Observances," there is this heading under April 
10: 

Croatian Independence Day 

The Independent State of Croatia was declared by unanimous procla- 
mation in 1941 thus ending an enforced union with Royalist Yugo- 
slavia in which Croatian independence was subverted and threatened. 
Lack of Western support and Axis occupation forced the new state 
into an unfortunate association with the Axis powers. 

The Ustasha historical revisionists could not have said it any bet- 
ter. 

We have examined the history of three Nazi collaborators who 
belonged to the World Anti-Communist League. We did not have 
to cull membership lists or examine the backgrounds of all League 
members to find them; they were chosen virtually at random to serve 
as examples. They are not the three "bad apples" of the League; they 
are, in fact, in the company of many other war criminals, some of 
whom committed even worse crimes. 

A frequent attendee of League conferences was a silver-haired el- 
derly man named Dimitri Kasmowich. Kasmowich returned from 
exile to his native Byelorussia with the invading Germans in 1941. 
Designated police chief of Smolensk, he purged the area of Jews, 
partisans, and Communist Party members, destroying entire towns 
and villages to clear the path for the Nazis. As the war began turning 
against Germany, Kasmowich was sent to an SS commando training 
center in Germany; he returned to Byelorussia to lead a unit of Bye- 



44 

lorussian Nazis of the Abwehr-sponsored "special intelligence oper- 
ations" section in guerrilla warfare behind the Red Army front lines. 

Escaping to Switzerland, Kasmowich later surfaced as a refugee 
rations officer for the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation 
Agency (UNRRA) in France. In a displaced persons camp, he was 
recruited by British Intelligence and smuggled to England, where he 
lived under the name "Zarechny." Returning to Germany in the 
1950s, he organized Byelorussian Nazi collaborators for the U.S. State 
Department's Office of Policy Coordination while working as an 
accountant for the U.S. Army. The result, the Byelorussian Libera- 
tion Movement, was designed to gather information and carry out 
intelligence missions for the Americans. Due to this high status 
within the Byelorussian emigre community, Kasmowich headed the 
Liberation Movement delegations to World Anti-Communist League 
conferences from 1966 until the late 1970s. 

Today, the Byelorussian Liberation Movement is still the official 
Byelorussian League chapter. Leadership has passed on to John Ko- 
siak; he too meets the requirements of a war criminal. Appointed an 
engineer in Byelorussia by the SS, Kosiak used slave labor to repair 
war-damaged factories, and he constructed the Jewish ghetto of 
Minsk. He lives in Chicago and has been active in Republican Party 
politics. 

Theodore Oberlander, the German commander of the Ukrainian 
Nightingales, has continued his partnership with Yaroslav Stetsko 
through the World Anti-Communist League. A staunch Nazi, 
Oberlander joined the Nazi Party in 1933 and was made an honorary 
officer of the Nazi SD (Gestapo) in 1936. The Ukrainians accused of 
carrying out many of the purges in the Lvov area in June 1941 were 
under his command. 

After the war, Oberlander became a member of the Bundestag, 
controversial for his habit of carrying a loaded gun onto the assembly 
floor. He served as West German minister of refugee affairs until 
1960, when details of his wartime role became known and he was 
forced to resign. A year later, German prosecutors dropped the charges 
against him, citing "lack of evidence," and stating that they had 
heard testimony from at least 150 Soviet citizens attesting to his 
innocence. What was not said was that most of these character witnes- 
ses were Ukrainian Nazi collaborators and members of the OUN/B 
in exile. 



45 



In other words, Oberlander was cleared largely on the testimony 
of men who had served under his wartime command. Oberlander ; s 
special relationship with Stetsko— each knowing intimate details of 
the crimes of the other— continues today; Oberlander is a high officer 
of the ABN's European Freedom Council and leads German delega- 
tions to World Anti-Communist League conferences. 

The presence of Nazi collaborators in the League, both individuals 
and entire organizations, is staggering. 

St. C. de Berkelaar, who heads an organization in the Netherlands 
called Sint Martinsfonds, attended the 1978 League conference in 
Washington, D.C. Sint Martinsfonds is a brotherhood of three to four 
hundred former tXitch SS officers. 

Ake Lindsten, chairman of the Swedish National League, headed the 
Swedish delegation to the League conference of 1979. Lindsten was a 
member of a Nazi youth group in his native country during World 
War II and has been censored by the Swedish government for his 
group's racist proclamations. 

The Slovak World Congress, the Slovakian chapter of the League, 
is composed of Nazi collaborators and their progeny. They are repre- 
sented in the League by Josef Mikus, who was an ambassador for the 
Nazi-puppet Slovak government in World War II. 

The Latvian chapter of the League is controlled by the Danagaus 
Vanagi ("Danaga Hawks"). Operating out of Munster, West Ger- 
many, and publishing a newspaper in Canada, the Hawks are a band 
of Latvian leaders who assisted the Nazis in exterminating the Jews of 
their Baltic homeland. 

If one wants to find Nazi collaborators, it is only necessary to ex- 
amine the European chapters of the World Anti-Communist League. 

With the creation of the World Anti-Communist League, there 
came into existence a worldwide network of fascism. Today, League 
conventions afford the opportunity for the old-guard war criminals 
to meet with, advise, and support the new-guard fascists. Thus today 
a man like Chirila Ciuntu, who helped slaughter "Communist- Jews" 
forty-five years ago, can sit down in the same room with an Italian 
fascist who killed "Reds" ten years ago and with a Salvadoran who 
is killing "subversives" now. 



FOUR 



The Taiwanese realty insist on this "war of organizations. " 
If an infantry battalion isn't adequate to combat guerrillas, 
let us design an organization that works. 

Roberto D'Aubuisson, 
death squad leader in 
El Salvador, 1983 

7n the 1960s ; five Asians made major contributions to creating 
and promoting a movement that would spread to nearly one hundred 
nations on six continents. One was a ruthless dictator who had seen 
his vast domain reduced to a tiny island through corruption and a 
series of military blunders. Another was a former communist who 
had saved his own life by turning in hundreds of his comrades for 
execution. Two were gangsters; the fifth was an evangelist who 
planned to take over the world through the doctrine of "Heavenly 
Deception." They weren ; t what one would call a sterling assortment 
of characters; four of the five had spent time in prison ; two for war 
crimes, one for anti-state activities, another on a morals charge. Yet 
if it weren't for the collective efforts of Chiang Kai-shek, Park Chung 
Hee, Ryoichi Sasakawa ; Yoshio Kodama, and the Reverend Sun 
Myung Moon, there probably would not be a World Anti-Commu- 
nist League today. 

The organization that Stetsko ; s Anti-Bolshevik Bloc of Nations 
joined forces with in 1966 was dedicated to stemming the commu- 
nist tide in Asia: the Asian People's Anti-Communist League 



47 



(APACL). Formed in 1954 ; the Asian League was dedicated to unit- 
ing conservatives from all over the continent to batde the "Red 
hordes" that threatened them all. When the ABN, the APACL, and 
other groups merged in 1966 to form the World Anti-Communist 
League, it did not mean the end of the Asian Peopled Anti-Commu- 
nist League, but its stature was reduced to regional affiliate of the 
larger organization. 

Although the Asian League was hailed in 1954 as a private for- 
mation of concerned citizens, parliamentarians, and clergy, it was 
actually a creation of South Korean intelligence agents and the 
Chinese government-in-exile of Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek. In 
many respects, South Korea and Taiwan appeared to be natural al- 
lies. Chiang's Nationalists were isolated on the tiny island of Tai- 
wan, or Formosa, and Korea was devastated and impoverished after 
the Korean War; both nations were desperately seeking anti-com- 
munist allies throughout the world. An organization in which con- 
servative leaders from the United States and Europe could meet with 
their Asian counterparts seemed a good avenue for this. 

Chiang Kai-shek had waged a bloody and cruel twenty-year war 
in China against the Mandarin warlords, the occupying Japanese, 
and the communists led by Mao Tse-tung. Chiang's rule was cor- 
rupt, inept, and impotent, perhaps best illustrated by the speed with 
which he lost mainland China to Mao after World War II. Even the 
American military officials who advised him during World War II 
had no faith in him or in his Kuomintang (KMT) political party. As 
early as 1943, General Joseph Stilwell had disgustedly called the 
Chiang Kai-shek rule "a one party government supported by a Ge- 
stapo." 

Though the mainland was not completely conquered by Mao un- 
til 1949, Chiang had established his cronies on Formosa (named by 
the Portuguese, meaning "beautiful") four years earlier. The native 
Formosans chafed under the Kuomintang rule, which had quickly 
monopolized the island's economy and government. In 1947, the 
natives, ardently pro-American, rebelled against the "occupiers" and 
pushed for greater autonomy. 

If the Formosans were hoping for moderation from the Kuomin- 
tang or assistance from the Americans, they were soon disillusioned. 
Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek may not have been able to defeat the 



48 



communists ; but the unarmed Formosans were a different story; un- 
der the cover of darkness, he rushed some twelve thousand of his 
Nationalist soldiers to the island. The massacres that ensued were 
indiscriminate and vast in scale. 

"From an upper window," George Kerr, a State Department offi- 
cial in Formosa, wrote, "we watched Nationalist soldiers in action 
in the alleys across the way. We saw Formosans bayoneted in the 
street without provocation. A man was robbed before our eyes— and 
then cut down and run through. Another ran into the street in pur- 
suit of soldiers dragging a girl away from his house and we saw him, 
too, cut down. 

"This sickening spectacle was only the smallest sample of the 
slaughter then taking place throughout the city/ 71 

Dr. Ira Hirschy, the chief medical officer in Formosa for the United 
Nations Rehabilitation and Relief Agency, was also a witness to the 
killings: 

In the city of Pintung where the inauguration of the brief people's 
rule was marked by the playing of the Star Spangled Banner on pho- 
nographs, the entire group of about 45 Formosans who were carrying 
on various phases of local government were taken out to a nearby 
airfield from which, later, a series of shots were heard. A Formosan, 
who, representing the families of these people, went to the military 
commander to intercede for their lives, was taken to the public square 
and, after his wife and children had been called to witness the event, 
he was beheaded as an example to the rest of the people not to meddle 
in affairs which did not concern them. 2 

After the initial wave of killings, which claimed the lives of most 
of Formosa's prominent businessmen, intellectuals, and political lead- 
ers, the Nationalists turned their attention to the younger generation. 
"We saw students tied together," Kerr reported, "being driven to the 
execution grounds, usually along the river banks and ditches about 
Taipei [the capital]. . . . One foreigner counted more than thirty bod- 
ies—in student uniforms— lying along the roadside east of Taipei; they 
had had their noses and ears slit or hacked off, and many had been 
castrated. Two students were beheaded near my front gate." 

The March 1947 massacre took an estimated twenty thousand 
lives; the fledgling Formosan independence movement had been 
crushed and the way was paved for Chiang Kai-shek and his soldiers 



49 



retreating from the mainland to establish a government-in-exile. The 
atrocity also proved the efficacy of total and unconventional warfare, 
a mode of combat the Nationalists would later teach to other anti- 
communists ; often through the auspices of the World Anti-Com- 
munist League. 

By 1949, nearly a million Nationalists had flooded into Formosa. 
There they established the Republic of China and imposed a rigid 
dictatorship over the indigenous population, which outnumbered 
them fifteen to one. The Formosans, now called Taiwanese under 
Chiang's decree, were completely shut out of the governing process, 
which became the domain of the Kuomintang. Businesses and fac- 
tories belonging to natives were taken away and given to Chiang's 
cronies. Taiwanese suspected of harboring communist sympathies or 
of opposing Chiang's rule (to the government, the two were virtually 
synonomous) were executed or exiled to the prison on Green Island 
on the slightest pretext; this effectively crushed any opposition that 
remained. 

Contrary to popular belief, and contrary to the pronouncements 
of the Kuomintang, the United States did not immediately support 
the new government in Taiwan. Throughout all branches of the 
American government, including the military, there was widespread 
contempt for Chiang Kai-shek and revulsion at the atrocities of his 
soldiers. Lieutenant General Albert C. Wedemeyer, generally consid- 
ered something of a rightist and certainly no friend of Mao's com- 
munists, wrote in 1949: 

The Central Government [the Kuomintang] lost a fine opportunity to 
indicate to the Chinese people and to the world at large its capability 
to provide honest and efficient administration. . . . [They] ruthlessly, 
corruptly and avariciously imposed their regime upon a happy and 
amenable population. The Army conducted themselves as conquerors. 
Secret police operated freely to intimidate and to facilitate exploitation 
by Central Government officials. 3 

The man who would make the new regime in Taiwan palatable 
to the Americans was General Douglas MacArthur. One day in July 
1950, while he was commander in chief of the United Nations forces 
fighting in Korea, MacArthur breezed into Taipei, met with Chiang 
Kai-shek, and promised him, in contradiction to President Truman's 
policy, that American expertise and weapons would soon be flowing 



50 



to the island bastion. Appearing before the Senate Committee on 
Foreign Relations, the general extolled the virtues of the Kuomintang 
government. 

I superficially went through Formosa. I was surprised by the content- 
ment I found there. I found that the people were enjoying a standard 
of living which was quite comparable to what it was before the 
war. ... I found representative government being practiced. ... I went 
into their courts. I found a judicial system which I thought was better 
than a great many of the other countries in Asia. I went into their 
schools. I found that their primary instruction was fully on a standard 
with what was prevalent in the Far East. ... I found many things I 
could criticize too ; but I believe sincerely that the standard of govern- 
ment that he [Chiang] is setting in Formosa compares favorably with 
many democracies in the world. 4 

That MacArthur had achieved such a firm grasp of the state of 
affairs in Taiwan during a single day's visit was not questioned by 
the American legislators. Indeed, his promises of American support 
were prophetic. As the Korean War turned against the United States, 
Chiang Kai-shek, with his dream of returning to the mainland and 
defeating the communists, was seen as a potential pressure point 
against Mao. With the rise of Senator Joseph McCarthy and his 
"exposing" of communist sympathizers in the federal government, 
American officials muted or stopped their criticism of Chiang's rule. 
Suddenly the Kuomintang was respectable, and American aid began 
to pour in. The American Military Assistance Advisory Group 
(MA AG) in Taiwan grew from a handful of advisers in 1951 to 
2,300 five years later. Economic aid and war materiel flowed in at a 
rate that the island could not possibly absorb. By 1961, military 
expenditures, nearly all provided by the American government, were 
three-quarters of the national budget. 

Throughout, Chiang Kai-shek performed his appointed role. Every 
October 10, he emerged onto a balcony in Taipei's main square and, 
before hundreds of thousands of soldiers, students, and workers 
standing at attention, proclaimed that the return to the mainland was 
imminent. 

At the end of World War II, Korea was a divided and shattered 
nation. The Soviets had seized the industrialized northern half of 



5i 

Korea and established a puppet state. The Americans ; occupying the 
southern half ; brought in Synghman Rhee ; a right-wing strongman 
who hadn ; t lived in Korea for thirty-five years, to rule their sector. 
Since Rhee had no power base ; the military and the government of 
South Korea were both filled largely with rightists who had fought 
on the side of the Japanese during the war and who could thus be 
trusted as anti-communists. One of these was Park Chung Hee. Al- 
though the Asian People's Anti-Communist League was established 
during Rhee's reign ; it was Park who would make it an important 
instrument of South Korean foreign policy. 

When the Asian People's Anti-Communist League was formed in 
1954 ; Taiwan and South Korea had much in common. Korea had 
lost half its territory ; the most economically advanced part ; to the 
communists ; while Chiang's Nationalists had seen over 99 percent 
of theirs slip away. Both were in the front lines of the Cold War, 
completely exposed to their implacable enemies: the Korean capital 
was twenty miles away from the armies of North Korea ; and Tai- 
wan was ninety miles across the China Sea from the colossus of 
Communist China. Both harbored dreams of reunification through 
the defeat of communism ; both were ruled by military dictatorships 
that kept order through perpetual martial law ; and both were in- 
debted to the United States for their survival and prosperity. 

The Asian People's Anti-Communist League was born out of the 
desire of these two nations to cement ties with potential friends in 
other parts of the world ; as well as to justify their own dictatorships. 
Although the Asian League has expanded to include other Asian 
countries in the American sphere of influence ; ultimate power has 
always remained with Korea and Taiwan; the chairmanship goes to 
Taipei and the secretariat is housed in Seoul. In the 1970s ; when 
other countries criticized Korea's iron-fisted internal policies and 
dropped their recognition of Taiwan in favor of mainland China ; the 
Asian League ; as well as the World Anti-Communist League ; became 
virtual foreign policy arms of these two countries desperate to make ; 
or at least maintain ; relations wherever and with whomever possible. 

From the beginning, the task of forming and perpetuating the 
Asian People's Anti-Communist League was entrusted to Korean and 
Taiwanese intelligence agencies. The composition of their league del- 
egations was largely drawn from the intelligence and military com- 
munities. For example, Ku Cheng-kang ; president of the Taiwanese 



51 



chapter and currently "honorary chairman-for-life/ ; had been a mem- 
ber of Chiang Kai-shek's Supreme National Defense Council during 
World War II, minister of interior and of social affairs, national pol- 
icy adviser, senior adviser to the president, and a member of the 
Central Standing Committee of the ruling Kuomintang. Armed with 
an impressive array of posts and honors, Ku was, technically at least, 
the fourth most important official in the KMT government. The 
Korean delegations, on the other hand, were composed mostly of 
active and retired army officers or, beginning in the 1960s, Korean 
CIA agents. 

The Chinese Nationalists established branches of the Asian League 
in ethnic Chinese communities in the United States. Korean CIA 
agents fanned out throughout Asia and the United States making 
contacts and arranging delegations for conferences, usually paying 
for the visitors' expenses. It was Park Chung Hee, Synghman Rhee ; s 
successor in South Korea, who was most responsible for this cam- 
paign of expansion and quiet influence. 

Park, a slight man by Korean standards, was a master in the game 
of political musical chairs; he nimbly leaped from the right to the 
left, in whatever direction was most advantageous to his pursuit of 
power. He had been not just a Japanese sympathizer during the war; 
he had been trained by them. He had graduated from their Manchu- 
kuo Military Academy in occupied Manchuria and fought with them 
in China. That background did not, however, deter him from se- 
cretly becoming a high official in the Communist Party of South 
Korea while he was teaching at a military academy in 1946. When 
he was arrested by the government in 1948 and sentenced to death, 
his future looked bleak; it was time for him to move back to the 
right. Park cut a deal with the Rhee government: Spare my life, and 
I'll tell you everything. "His actions resulted in the purge of hundreds 
of army officers and the death of many former friends." 5 

Park's treachery kept him alive to lead the coup thirteen years 
later that would propel him to power as the strongman of a right- 
wing, anti-communist military dictatorship. At three o'clock on the 
night of May 16, 1961, the Korean army fanned out through the 
streets of Seoul. By the end of the day, the officers had formed a 
Military Revolutionary Committee, dissolved the National Assem- 
bly, closed all schools and newspapers, imposed a dusk-to-dawn cur- 



53 



few, and declared martial law. Before the end of the year, they had 
created the Korean Central Intelligence Agency. * 

While he was the unbridled ruler of South Korea, Park trans- 
formed the Asian League. He replaced the Korean chapter leaders: 
High-ranking generals, admirals, and personal advisers to the presi- 
dent began attending its conferences. Through the League, the new 
ruling elite of South Korea could meet, confer, and negotiate infor- 
mally with influential military officers and parliamentarians from 
throughout the world. In time, both the Asian People's Anti-Com- 
munist League and the World Anti-Communist League became in- 
struments of the Park government's campaign to gain influence in 
other countries through the bestowing of gifts, money, or favors. 
The eventual revelations of this campaign culminated in the 1976- 
78 Koreagate scandal in the United States. 

Just how important a foreign policy instrument Park considered 
Korea's League chapter to be, especially when directed at the United 
States, is illustrated by the fact that it was an American professor, 
David Rowe, who rebuilt it for him. "With the financial support of 
an American foundation/' Rowe wrote in 1970 ; "and on the invi- 
tation of a Korean who is still today probably the second most pow- 
erful man in Korea [an apparent reference to former KCIA director 
Kim Jong Pil], I spent the summer of 1965 in the Korean Chapter of 
the APACL. I worked to establish training organizations and proce- 
dures for the anti-Communist struggle in Korea. ... I accomplished 
almost single-handed the following: the then-head of the Korean 
Chapter was sacked and a younger and highly capable man took the 
job, albeit only for a limited time. The organization was thoroughly 
cleansed of its left-oriented infiltrators. . . . When I finally got to the 
President of the Republic of Korea, and outlined the rotten state of 
affairs then current in the Chapter and told him what had to be done, 
I can simply state for the record that within six months every one 
of my specific recommendations for the Chapter had been put into 
effect." 6 

The Korean president who acted on Rowe's recommendations, 
Park Chung Hee, ruled South Korea with an iron fist until 1979. 

"Despite the similarity of names, there is no evidence that the American CIA 
was Involved In the creation of the Korean CIA in 1961 In fact, American 
authorities were reportedly angered by the South Korean government's adoption 
of the Identical title. 



54 



One evening in October of that year he was dining at the Kungjong, 
a government restaurant, with the KCIA director, Kim Jae Kyu. Sit- 
ting on the floor in traditional Korean style ; the two men began 
quarrelling over the repressive methods that had been used recently 
to silence the oppositon. The climax of this "accidental argument" 
came when Kim Jae Kyu produced a gun, aimed it at the president's 
head five feet away, and pulled the trigger. Kim put two bullets into 
Park, then gunned down five other occupants of the room. (How 
the KCIA director fired at least seven bullets from a six-chamber 
revolver is a ballistic mystery that Korean authorities have never fully 
explained.) 

Park Chung Hee was dead, but by that time the League could 
survive without him. 

Although the U.S. government has denied the authors access to 
the pertinent records, it appears clear that the United States was 
largely behind the formation of both the Asian People's and the 
World Anti-Communist Leagues. Because the United States propped 
up the regimes of Synghman Rhee and Chiang Kai-shek, these rulers 
naturally initiated programs and pursued policies that their American 
advisers favored. Conversely, they could not easily embark on a proj- 
ect that the United States did not desire. Given the political realities 
of the time, it would be hard to believe that the Leagues were estab- 
lished without American assistance; after all, their stated objectives— 
to actively fight communism— were very much in keeping with 
American foreign policy objectives. 

It is equally doubtful that the Taiwanese and South Korean gov- 
ernments footed the bills for the Leagues. Taiwan was still woefully 
poor in the 1950s, while Korea, devastated by the Korean War, was 
suffering famine in some provinces. Without enough money to feed 
their own people, where did the money come from to launch an 
international organization? The obvious answer is that it came from 
the United States. 

If this is so, the financial assistance program was not overt; no bill 
was ever introduced in Congress for U.S. funding of the Leagues. 
Former intelligence officers suggest that the funds most likely came 
out of money already designated for economic or military assistance, 
CIA discretionary funds, or U.S. Embassy Counterpart Funds, and 
that it was done not out of Korea but out of Taiwan. 



55 



Since the Chinese Nationalists were in no position to repay the 
American assistance in the 1950s ; an arrangement was made whereby 
the United States was given "credits" in the Taiwanese currency (NT) 
for its debts. Using this method, the Taiwanese then embarked on 
various programs dictated by the Americans as a means to lower their 
debt. Thus the much-hailed Taiwanese missions to Africa to teach 
fanners better agricultural practices were actually an American pro- 
gram, paid for by Counterpart Funds in the American Embassy. 

These funds were not just numbers in a ledger book. They were 
actual sacks of money that sat in a safe in the American Embassy in 
Taipei. From the little-scrutinized Counterpart Funds account may 
have come the initial financing for the Asian People ; s Anti-Commu- 
nist League in 1954 and the preparatory meeting of the World Anti- 
Communist League in 1958. 

The most likely American conduit for the latter operation was a 
flamboyant Harvard graduate named Ray Cline. Having served as 
an intelligence officer for the U.S. Navy and for the Office of Stra- 
tegic Services (OSS) in Asia during World War II, Cline was CIA 
station chief in Taiwan from 1958 to 1962. As such he had access 
to the Counterpart Funds account at the time when the first prepa- 
ratory meetings were being held toward the establishment of the 
World League.* 

Whatever the validity of this theory, Cline continues to have a 
close relationship with the League. Not only has he attended several 
conferences, including those of 1980, 1983, and 1984, but he is also 
a close friend of retired Major General John Singlaub; their relation- 
ship dates back to the 1940s, when both served with the OSS in 
China. Singlaub is currently chairman of the World Anti-Communist 
League. 

Cline has contributed to the flourishing of the international ultra- 
right in ways more verifiable than his possible early work with the 
League. Despite his local notoriety in Taiwan for having built the 
gaudiest home on the island (dubbed "the Pink Palace"), Cline de- 
veloped a deep and lasting friendship there with a man named Chiang 

"Cline went on to become deputy director of intelligence for the CIA and is 
now a senior associate of the Center for Strategic and International Studies at 
Ceorgetown University In Washington and president of the National Intelli- 
gence Study Center. 



5t6 



Ching-kuo, who at the time was head of the obscure Retired Ser- 
viceman's Organization. 

Cline's friend and hunting partner was not just a low-level Kuom- 
intang bureaucrat, however; he was the son of Generalissimo Chiang 
Kai-shek and heir-apparent to the Taiwan dictatorship. He had an intel- 
ligence background similar in some respects to Cline's, except that he 
had the added advantage of having been trained by the enemy. 

Chiang Ching-kuo had graduated from the Sun Yat-Sen University 
in Moscow in 1927. Deemed a "revolutionary cadre" by his com- 
munist instructors, he was appointed as an alternate member of the 
Communist Party. He had also attended the Whampoa Academy, a 
Soviet-run school in China that instructed its pupils, both communist 
and Nationalist, in the art of political warfare. The generalissimo's 
son put his instruction to good use; by the time of his affiliation with 
Cline, he had already been in control of the Kuomintang's secret 
police (or "Gestapo," according to General Stilwell) for at least a 
decade and had personally overseen purges in which dozens of 
Kuomintang officers were executed. Throughout his subsequent rise 
to the top, from defense minister to premier and, finally, to president, 
Chiang Ching-kuo had a steadfast ally in Ray Cline. 

In the late 1950s they joined forces to create an instrument of war 
that continues to have a hidden impact on events throughout the 
world: the Political Warfare Cadres Academy. Today, much of the 
international recruitment for this academy is coordinated through the 
World Anti-Communist League. 

Although the regime describes political warfare as a system "to 
remove obstacles to national unity within and to resist aggression 
from without," 7 political warfare is actually the ideological base that 
the Kuomintang has used to maintain Taiwan as a police state and 
to infiltrate, expose, and liquidate any opposition that may be sus- 
pected to exist at any level of society, even down to the family level. 
Through the use of political warfare, armed with the fiat of perma- 
nent martial law, the Nationalists have built what is probably one 
of the most pervasive internal security and spying networks in ex- 
istence. Fully one-fifth of the population is believed to be involved 
in this warfare, in activities ranging from lecturing soldiers and work- 
ers in political "correctness" to surveilling one's own children, par- 
ents, and neighbors for the authorities. The tool used to perpetuate 



57 



this system is the Political Warfare Cadres Academy ; housed on a 
hillside in Peitou ; just outside the capital. 

Patterned after the Soviet model of political officers ; commissars ; 
and informants ; the academy is the training ground for the General 
Political Warfare Department a branch of the Ministry of National 
Defense. Its primary function ; as with the Soviet modeI ; is to ensure 
party (in this case ; Kuomintang) control of the military through poli- 
tical indoctrination. Kuomintang cells ; called "political departments" 
and composed of graduates of the academy ; are established in every 
military unit down to company size. These political commissars 
watch over troops as well as the non-academy officers, test their 
political awareness ; and submit regular status reports to the General 
Political Warfare Department on each person. "The surveillance or 
inspection function of the company political officer is by far his most 
ominous duty. Each member of the unit has the responsibility to 
report on dissidence and deviant political attitudes which may be 
observed on the part of his comrades." 8 The commissars' primary 
loyalty is not to the military but to the Party ; and according to 
former American advisers in Taiwan, in disputes between army and 
political officers, the latter always win. 

The General Political Warfare Department conducts a vast array 
of operations. It runs radio stations, publishing houses, and even 
movie studios. It also has counterintelligence units to locate subver- 
sives and psychological warfare units to supervise political warfare 
campaigns and promulgate propaganda, as well as civic affairs units 
for the purpose of infiltrating behind enemy lines during an invasion 
to generate support for the Kuomintang. All of these different units 
undergo training at the academy. 

Although it was created in the early 1950s, the academy took on 
new importance when Chiang Ching-kuo became director of the 
General Political Warfare Department and reorganized it in 1959, a 
move facilitated by American assistance. In fact, American military 
personnel, drawn largely from the Military Assistance Advisory 
Group stationed in Taiwan, taught at the academy. 

One Taiwanese, a former Kuomintang Party member now living 
in exile, was selected from his university class to attend a two-month 
training course at the academy. "We were taught that to defeat com- 
munism, we had to be cruel. We were told to watch our commander, 
that if he showed weakness or indecision in combat, we were to kill 



5« 

him. They also had us watch fellow classmates who, of course, were 
watching us." 9 

The cadres are also instructed in how to spot potential communist 
or pro-Taiwanese-independence sympathizers and how to open let- 
ters with a pencil so that their tampering is undetectable to the casual 
observer. As the students progress and win the trust of the teachers, 
they are advanced to classes in psychological warfare and techniques 
of interrogation. 

In keeping with the department's campaign to "resist aggression 
from without/' graduates of the academy have also been active away 
from the island. "The political warfare system was involved in a 
wide range of international operations: personnel security; investi- 
gations; censorship; agent infiltration; front organizations; suppres- 
sion of Taiwanese independence groups; and exploitation of overseas 
Chinese communities. These activities were carried out by a wide 
variety of agencies but overall planning and control was theoretically 
the responsibility of 'the intelligence agency of the nation's highest 
military organization/ " the Political Warfare Department. 10 

The most convenient cover for this international campaign of "or- 
ganizational warfare" was, of course, the same cause that had gained 
the Kuomintang recognition in the first place: anti-communism. For 
this program, the Asian People's Anti-Communist League and, later, 
the World Anti-Communist League, were perfect vehicles. 

Eventually, the Nationalists expanded their political warfare cam- 
paign into another sector. As nations dropped their diplomatic recog- 
nition of Taiwan in favor of mainland China in the early 1970s, the 
Kuomintang looked to their few remaining friends as the last threads 
connecting the island to the rest of the world. To the right-wing dic- 
tatorships in South and Central America, which represented most of 
the few real allies they had left, the Taiwanese could offer something 
more than trade; they could also offer political warfare training at their 
academy in Peitou. The legacy of the training at the academy, which 
the Americans in general and Ray Cline in particular helped to estab- 
lish, can be found today in the "unconventional warfare" employed 
throughout Latin America. This transfer of expertise is, in large part, 
conducted through the offices of the World Anti-Communist League. 

In the 1950s and 1960s the Asian People's Anti-Communist 
League remained a rather home-grown affair. While the preponder- 



59 



ance of Taiwanese and Korean military and intelligence officers 
within its ranks may have caused some to take pause, as well as its 
representation of some of the most severe governments in the world ; 
it was hardly the well-financed, nation-linking organization of the 
extreme right that it is today. Although it was able to get conserva- 
tive American congressmen and senators to attend its meetings, it 
remained a rather benign and regional "paper tiger." 

Other Asian nations placed varying degrees of importance on the 
League. In the capitalist bastions of Asia— Hong Kong, Macao, Sin- 
gapore—League delegations consisted mostly of conservative busi- 
nessmen and bankers. In Thailand, the military was represented at 
the League by General Prapham Kulapichtir. The Philippines chapter 
was filled with cronies of dictator Ferdinand Marcos and those drawn 
from his rubber-stamp National Assembly. Australia was represented 
largely by conservative members of Parliament (in 1978 one called 
the "international ecology movement" a communist ruse), inter- 
spersed with neo-Nazis, racists, and Eastern European immigrants 
whose roots lay in the fascist collaborationist armies of World War 
II. In Southeast Asia, the chapters were headed by members of the 
ruling elite like Prince Sopasaino of the Laotian royal family, or by 
the military, like Colonel Do Dang Cong, a military aide to South 
Vietnamese President Nguyen Van Thieu. 

Although the League began to come of age during Park Chung 
Hee's reign, a much bigger boost occurred later in the 1960s, when 
it tapped into three Asians with powerful political connections and 
a lot of money. The League's benefactors were two former Japanese 
war criminals who controlled Japan's underworld and a Korean evan- 
gelist who thought he was God. 



FIVE 



I am the world's wealthiest fascist. 

fiyoichi Sasakawa 

In august 1945, thirteen Japanese fascists climbed to a hilltop 
above Tokyo. From the hill, they looked out at shimmering Tokyo 
Bay and saw the surrounding snowcapped mountains, the brilliant 
green of the rice paddies, and the tiny hamlets whose coal fires sent 
little black spumes into the blue sky. But the men hadn ; t come to 
admire the view. The empire they had spent their lives creating lay 
in ruins. Hiroshima and Nagasaki had been obliterated by atomic 
bombs. American troops were massed just over the horizon, ready 
to invade. The talk in Tokyo was of surrender. For the men on 
Atagoyama Hill, that would be the ultimate disgrace. Better to die 
than bear witness to the final humilation. 

As thousands of their countrymen throughout Japan and on un- 
told numbers of islands in the Pacific had already done, twelve of 
the men, members of the ultra-right Sonjo Doshikai ("Association 
for the Reverence of the Emperor and the Expulsion of the Barbari- 
ans") had come to the hill to commit suicide. The thirteenth member 
of their party was apparently there to dissuade them. It was to no 
avail; the men on Atagoyama held hand grenades to their stomachs 
and pulled the pins. Only one man, Yoshio Kodama, came down 
from the hill. 

Kodama had a lot to live for. Thanks to the war and the patronage 
of a political leader, Ryoichi Sasakawa, he was sitting on a fortune 



61 



of over $200 million. In the years ahead, he would help create the 
dominant political party of Japan, make and destroy prime ministers, 
fund the World Anti-Communist League, and be the principal figure 
in the greatest scandal in modern Japanese history. Working along- 
side him would be Sasakawa, his old mentor. 

The lives of Kodama and Sasakawa, the pre-eminent fascist lead- 
ers in postwar Japan, are closely intertwined. Born in 1899, Ry- 
oichi Sasakawa, the son of a small sake (rice whiskey) brewer, 
became a millionaire at thirty by speculating on rice futures. In 
1931, he formed the Kokusui Taishuto, a militarist political move- 
ment and, according to a U.S. Counter-intelligence Corps (CIC) 
report after World War II, was "one of the most active Fascist 
organizers prior to the war." 

Yoshio Kodama started life more abjectly. An orphan who had 
survived by toiling in sweatshops, he found his calling among the 
various right-wing movements that sprouted up throughout Japan in 
the 1930s. Often these yakuza groups functioned more as criminal 
bands than as genuine ideological movements; modeling themselves 
after the legends of the samurai warriors, they displayed their alle- 
giance to a particular leader by covering their bodies with tattoos; 
they repented errors by cutting off the tips of their little fingers. 
Bankrolled by conservative businessmen and politicians, these private 
yakuza armies broke up labor unions, "protected" factories and offices 
from vandalism, and assassinated opposition leaders. The young Ko- 
dama excelled at these activities and by the time he was fifteen was 
a terrorist leader in his own right. In 1931, he sent a dagger to a 
former Japanese minister of finance. "Allow me to present you with 
this instrument," the accompanying note read, "so appropriate for 
our troubled times. I leave you to make up your mind as to how to 
use it— to defend yourself, or to commit ritual suicide." 1 

The threat landed the twenty-year-old Kodama in jail, but it was 
not in vain; the day he was released, another yakuza succeeded in 
killing the former minister. 

In the 1930s both of the future League benefactors ran afoul of 
the law and were imprisoned, Sasakawa for plotting the assassina- 
tion of a former premier, Kodama for another murder plot, this time 
against the prime minister. 

As the forces of fascism took over Japan and as the war in Man- 
churia got under way, the talents of men like Sasakawa and Kodama 



6Z 



were suddenly needed. Both were released in order to further the 
cause of the empire— Kodama to carry out intelligence missions in 
China and Sasakawa to resurrect his Kokusui Taishuto movement, 
whose followers were now clad in blackshirts ; the symbol of inter- 
national fascism; they were to rally forces behind the government's 
plans to rule Asia. Sasakawa even flew to Rome for a personal au- 
dience with Mussolini ; a man he would later describe as "the perfect 
fascist." In 1942 Sasakawa was elected to the Japanese Parliament 
(Diet) on the promise of expanding the war throughout Asia. 

In the meantime ; Kodama was making a name for himself in 
China. Entrusted with the task of keeping the Japanese navy supplied 
with raw materials ; Kodama made a fortune of at least $200 million 
by seizing materiel, often at the point of a gun ; and then selling it 
back to his own government at exorbitant prices. 

At war's end ; both men were sent to prison by the American 
Occupation Forces, classified as Class A war criminals. "Sasakawa/ 7 
a CIC report concluded in 1946, "appears to be a man potentially 
dangerous to Japan's political future. . . > He has been squarely behind 
Japanese military aggression and anti-foreignism for more than 
twenty years. He is a man of wealth and not too scrupulous about 
its use. ... He is not above wearing any new cloak that opportunism 
may offer." 2 

Yoshio Kodama was ; in the eyes of the Americans ; just as poten- 
tially dangerous: "His long and fanatic involvement in ultra-national- 
istic activities, violence included, and his skill in appealing to youth 
make him a man who ; if released from internment, would surely be 
a grave security risk. . . . Persistent rumors as to his black-market 
profits in his Shanghai period, plus his known opportunism, are 
forceful arguments that he would be as unscrupulous in trade as he 
was in ultra-nationalism." 3 

But just as they did with the Nazis in Europe, the American oc- 
cupation authorities had a change of heart about Japan's war crimi- 
nals. As the Cold War began, the enemy was no longer the fascists 
but the communists. In Japan, as for example in Italy, the political 
left emerged from the war as a major power bloc with the potential 
for becoming the dominant political force and even, it was feared by 
the Americans, for leading the nation into the Soviet camp. Sasa- 
kawa, Kodama, and other prominent Japanese war criminals were 
quietly released from prison in 1948 and became some of the prime 



63 



movers, organizers, and funders of the Japanese Liberal Democratic 
Party, a cdnservative pro- American party that has controlled the poli- 
tical life of Japan ever since. Through this maneuver, the old ruling 
circles of Japan, the men who had allied with Nazi Germany and 
plunged their nation into a war of military imperialism throughout 
Asia, were resurrected and brought back into leadership roles. 

Many observers feel that a deal was struck, in which the United 
States released the war criminals in return for use of their connections 
and money to undercut the growing left. There is some evidence of 
this change of heart in declassified American documents from the 
period. Frank O'Neill, an American lieutenant attached to the Inter- 
national Military Tribunal, concluded in 1946 that Kodama "com- 
mitted numerous acts of violence in China in the acquisition by foul 
means or fair of commodities and goods [belonging to] the Chinese"; 
in 1948, the same Mr. O'Neill predicted that "ten years from today 
this man Kodama is going to be a great leader of Japan." 4 

Besides being two of the prime backers of the Liberal Democratic 
Party, Sasakawa and Kodama extended their influence to other fields. 
Sasakawa rebuilt his personal fortune through the establishment of 
the Japan Motorboat Racing Association* and maintained his con- 
tacts in the right-wing underworld through an organization called 
the National Council of Patriotic Organizations, or Zenai Kaigi. On 
the board with him were "several yakuza bosses and at least three 
right-wing terrorists convicted of the assassinations of Prime Minis- 
ters in the 1930's." 5 

Kodama, meanwhile, added to his wealth by becoming one of the 
supreme bosses of the Japanese underworld, mediating disputes be- 
tween rival yakuza and receiving protection money from Japanese 
industry. He, too, had his own organization, the Sheishikai, nick- 
named "Kodama's Club," which was composed almost entirely of 
underworld groups. 

If the backgrounds of Sasakawa and Kodama are less than illus- 

* Sasakawa got a bill passed through the Diet in 1959 establishing this monopoly 
with himself as head. The prime minister at the time was Kishi Nobosuke, 
another former Class A war criminal and Sasakawa's cellmate at Sugamo Prison. 
Klshl was the prime mover in the establishment of APACL-Iapan and was 
uctlve In the WACI. throughout the 1960s, including serving as chairman of 
the planning committee In 1970. 



64 



trious ; that of the Reverend Sun Myung Moon is downright bizarre. 
The son of middle-class parents from what is now North Korea, 
Moon's life took a dramatic turn when ; walking through the hills 
around his village ; he was visited by Jesus Christ. "You are the son 
I have been seeking," Christ informed the startled sixteen-year-old ; 
"the one who can begin my eternal history." 

Moon clearly took this sign from heaven to heart; today his Uni- 
fication Church, operating under a bewildering maze of religious, 
cultural, political, and economic front groups, spreads the word and 
influence of the "Heavenly Father" on five continents. 

Unification theology is a potpourri of Christianity, Confucianism, 
mysticism, patriotism, anti-communism, and Moon's own megalo- 
mania. In Moon's eyes, Christ technically falls into the category of 
a failure, for although he established a spiritual kingdom, he didn't 
establish a physical or political one. Moon is here to rectify that 
oversight; he is anointed as the man to complete Jesus' original mis- 
sion. 

Because it rejected Jesus, Israel is no longer God's chosen land 
(though the Jews were finally cleansed by suffering six million dead 
in World War II); God had to find a new Messiah and a new Adam 
country. Moon and Korea were uniquely designed for this purpose, 
for one of the most original aspects of Unificationism is its attribution 
of spirituality and gender to nations based upon their topography. 
"It [Korea] is a peninsula, physically resembling the male. . . . Japan 
is in the position of Eve. Being only an island country, it cannot be 
Adam. It yearns for male-like peninsular Korea on the mainland. . . . 
America is an archangel country. Its mother is England, another is- 
land country in the position of Eve." 6 

Today, Unification Church disciples, or "Moonies," are, according 
to former members, "love-bombed" upon induction, fed high-carbo- 
hydrate diets, and kept awake for long periods. These are basic forms 
of brainwashing designed to lower a person's resistance to coercion 
or suggestion. Initiates are kept under close surveillance, told to report 
their every action, even their dreams, to their leaders, and, when 
finally trusted, offered "redemption" by going out to raise funds for 
the Church. The fund-raisers, called "Mobile Teams," best known 
for relentlessly selling flowers, American flags, and magazines in air- 
ports, send to headquarters a payment of ten percent "for family 
support." 



65 



Virtually every action a Moonie makes is scrutinized, analyzed, 
and regulated. Moonies are constantly berated to save money, to 
tighten their belts, and to function on little food and sleep. "It's a sin 
to call long distance necessarily/' Moon proclaimed in a confidential 
1983 paper entitled "Instructions from Father." "When you are going 
to call, first, write down each point you wish to convey. Then, 
record the response. After you acknowledge the message, say good- 
bye and quickly hang up. I seldom call. If you misuse phone calls, 
you are commiting the crime of misusing your brother's blood." 

Throughout Moonie indoctrination, the "Heavenly Father" holds 
himself up as an example to be emulated. "Initiate an austerity pro- 
gram," the instruction memo goes on. "In eating, be tasteful, not 
excessive. I never eat snacks. You don't need any snack. Also, we 
never eat as we walk. It's unhealthy. Divide the eating, walking and 
talking time. I abhor eating and walking at the same time. I never 
carry food in my pocket or buy chewing gum. . . . I'm not fat. I have 
a special muscle for speaking long periods of time." 

Moon never would have developed that "special muscle" if it 
hadn't been for the intervention of the Korean CIA or the financial 
largesse of Japanese underworld bosses Sasakawa and Kodama. 

After studying electrical engineering in Japan during World War 
II, Moon returned to Pyongyang (now the capital of North Korea) 
to found his first church. "It was no different from many other unor- 
thodox Christian sects except for the ritual of 'blood separation/ 
involving female members of the Church. They were required to 
have sexual relations with Moon, to clear themselves of 'the taint of 
Satan.' " 7 

Moon was arrested by the communist authorities twice and in 
1947 was sentenced to five years in Hungnam Prison. Although he 
maintains that this was just another example of communist perse- 
cution of religion, other sources, including former Korean govern- 
ment officials, say the charges were in response to the Church's 
reported orgiastic practices. 

Eventually freed by United Nations troops in their advance north 
during the Korean War, Moon fled to Pusan, in South Korea. There 
he founded the Holy Spirit Association for the Unification of World 
Christianity or, simply, the Unification Church. 

Moon's ministry found quite a few converts among the homeless 



66 



and impoverished refugees who flooded Pusan ; but the strange tenets 
he espoused were met with suspicion and hostility by both the rulers 
of South Korea and the established Catholic clergy. Moon could count 
among his disciples ; however, a number of well-connected young 
army officers. When he was again arrested in 1955, this time on a 
morals charge for staying the night in a "love hotel" with a follower ; 
Moon's military contacts managed to get the charge changed to vi- 
olation of military conscription law and it was eventually dropped. 

A major boon for Moon's Church came in 1962 when Kim Jong 
Pil ; director of the newly formed Korean Central Intelligence Agency ; 
went to the United States on an official visit. His interpreter was 
Kim Sang In ; a Moon lieutenant. Coordinating his visit from the 
Korean Embassy in Washington was Colonel Bo Hi Pak ; who is 
today Moon's chief aide. 

Impressed by Pak's access to influential American government of- 
ficial Kim Jong Pil held a secret conference with Unification Church 
leaders in the United States at the St. Francis Hotel in San Francisco. 
According to Robert Boettcher, former staff director of the House 
Subcommittee on International Relations ; which investigated Moon's 
ties to the KCIA, Kim Jong Pil "decided the Unification Church 
should be organized satisfactorily to be utilized as a political tool 
whenever he and KCIA needed it. . . . It was a situation favorable 
both to Moon's plan for expanding via the good graces of the govern- 
ment and to Kim Jong Pil's plans for building a personal power 
base." 8 

This was the attainment of one of Moon's most important aims. 

In order to rule the world, Moon had to start with Korea. It was 
essenMal that he have loyal cultists inside the government. They had 
to be well placed so they could sway powerful persons and become 
influential themselves. They must be skillful in portraying the Unifi- 
cation Church as a useful political tool for the government without 
revealing Moon's power goals. By Moon's serving the government, 
the government would be serving him. . . . The government could 
come to need him so much that he would be able to take control of 
it. 9 

In order to gain greater influence and to serve the Korean govern- 
ment, it was necessary to expand Unification activities in the United 
States. Entrusted with this program was Colonel Bo Hi Pak, KCIA 



67 



agent, member of the Unification Church since 1957, and assistant 
military attache in the Korean Embassy in Washington. 

Pak returned to Korea in 1963 and retired from the army. Al- 
though he was now a private citizen and thus subject to South Ko- 
rea's strict passport laws, he was able to return to Washington on a 
diplomatic visa with a letter from the National Defense Ministry 
stating he was on a diplomatic mission. 

Upon his return, Pak created the Korean Cultural and Freedom 
Foundation (KCFF), an organization ostensibly dedicated to further- 
ing cultural ties between the United States and Korea. Pak quickly 
lined up an impressive list of names for the letterhead, including 
former Presidents Truman and Eisenhower, as honorary presidents, 
and Richard Nixon as an adviser. What these and many other prom- 
inent Americans did not know was that the foundation was actually 
a front behind which the Unification Church and the KCIA gained 
access to American policymakers. 

The foundation scheduled tours of the Little Angels, a Korean 
singing company and "unofficial goodwill ambassadors/ 7 an idea Pak 
got after watching a concert of the Vienna Boys 7 Choir. Although 
the tours also served the Koreans 7 goals of winning influence abroad 
(the Little Angels gave a private performance for former President 
Eisenhower in Gettysburg and appeared at the United Nations and 
before Queen Elizabeth II), there was another, hidden bonus for Bo 
Hi Pak. 

He discovered the Little Angels could be convenient vehicles for bring- 
ing cash for the KCFF into the United States. . . . Large amounts could 
be divided among members of the company before passing through 
Customs. ... In 1972, a little Angels travelling group delivered 18 
million yen [$58,000]. 7 ' 10 

Pak had also mastered the art of lining up prominent Americans 
for seemingly legitimate causes, then using the respectability that 
those Americans lent to raise money for the Unification Church. A 
particularly bold example was the launching of Radio of Free Asia 
(ROFA) in 1966. Contacting anti-communist American supporters 
for a radio station that would broadcast propaganda from South Ko- 
rea Into North Korea, mainland China, and North Vietnam, Pak 
placed these Americans in the directorship and put their names on 
the ROFA letterhead, which was sent out In mass mailings across 



68 



the United States asking for donations. Pak maintained actual control 
of the project, neglecting to tell the American chairman that the 
Korean government had already agreed to the free use of transmitters 
or that the operations director in Korea was a KCIA agent. In this 
way, Americans continued to send in financial contributions to Ra- 
dio of Free Asia, a KCIA operation ; for nine years; most of their 
money was diverted to the Unification Church, which used it to 
finance its increased proselytizing activities in the United States. 

It would appear, then, that along with ardent anti-communism 
and nationalism, the Reverend Moon also shared with Sasakawa and 
Kodama, his future Japanese underworld benefactors, a lack of rever- 
ence for legitimate business practices. 

One Moon mission was to rally anti-communist ; pro-Korean forces 
in Asia. With the backing of the Korean government and with funds 
coming partly from his share in state-controlled Korean industries, 
including the Tong-il Armaments Company ; an armaments manu- 
facture^ Moon established the International Federation for the Exter- 
mination of Communism. Although the dramatic name probably 
endeared him to the Korean military, it was a little much for other 
countries; the U.S. branch was called the Freedom Leadership Foun- 
dation. 

It was in Japan that Moon found his bonanza. Membership in the 
Japanese Unification Church had quickly surpassed that of the orig- 
inal Church in Korea. Even today ; with Church membership declin- 
ing rapidly in the United States and the Korean chapter virtually 
dormant, the Unification Church in Japan remains a powerful force. 

Ryoichi Sasakawa was the first Japanese leader to see the advan- 
tages of the Unification Church. In 1958 ; the Unification Church 
was begun in Japan under the name Genri Undo by a man named 
Nishikawa Masaru. It soon turned out that Masaru was not Japanese 
at all but was rather a Korean, Choi Sang Ik, who had entered Japan 
illegally. During Choi's subsequent immigration trial, Sasakawa in- 
terceded as his legal guarantor. From that time on, Sasakawa played 
an important role as adviser to Genri Undo. 

Neither Moon nor Sasakawa was content merely to promote a 
church ; however; in keeping with Sasakawa's lifetime involvement 
in ultra-nationalist activities and Moon's holy quest to establish a 
"physical mission" on earth ; it was necessary to establish a political 



69 

arm or, even better ; to take over an existing one, like the World 
Anti-Communist League. 

In July 1967, Sasakawa arranged a secret cabal at a building he 
owned on a lake in Yamanashi Prefecture. Among those attending 
were Reverend Moon, Shirai Tameo, and Osami Kuboki. Tameo 
was an underworld lieutenant of Yoshio Kodama and secretary of 
the innocuously named Japan Youth Lectures, a Kodama organiza- 
tion that indoctrinated and trained young members of the yakuza 
gangs. Kuboki was secretary-general of Japan's Genri Undo; he also 
served as an adviser and lecturer to Kodama's Youth Lectures. 

The purpose of the meeting was to create in Japan a Korean-style 
anti-communist movement that could operate under the umbrella of 
the World Anti-Communist League and that would further Moon's 
global crusade and lend the Japanese yakuza leaders a respectable new 
facade. Shokyo Rengo, or "Victory Over Communism," was bom. 
Ryoichi Sasakawa was made overall chairman of Shokyo Rengo, 
and Yoshio Kodama its chief adviser. 11 

In April 1968, Shokyo Rengo was chosen as the official Japanese 
chapter of the League. While theoretically unaffiliated with the Uni- 
fication Church, virtually its entire membership came from Moonie 
ranks or the yakuza minions of Kodama and Sasakawa. 

It was in the months preceding the 1970 (WACL) Congress that the 
general public in Japan first became aware of the existence of Shokyo 
Rengo, when its activists carried out a nation-wide campaign in the 
streets publicizing the congress, passing out leaflets, collecting dona- 
tions, etc. 12 

At the 1970 League conference, held in Kyoto and Tokyo, Osami 
Kuboki was named chairman of the finance committee, and Sasa- 
kawa, the overall chairman. Shokyo Rengo sponsored the confer- 
ence; its monetary generosity was considered the chief reason for 
this being the biggest gathering in League history. 

After their sponsorship of the 1970 League conference, both Sa- 
sakawa and Kodama stayed in the spotlight. Although Sasakawa no 
longer plays a visible role in the League, he remains a firm believer 
and important financier of both the Unification Church and Shokyo 
Rengo in Japan. In 1974 he created the World Karate Federation with 
Jhoon Rhee, another Moon lieutenant. Because of his philanthropy, 
Sasakawa has been honored with the Helen Keller International 



70 



Award, the Linus Pauling Medal for Humanitarianism, and the 
United Nations Peace Medal. Now he is reportedly angling for a 
Nobel Peace Prize. 

Yoshio Kodama remained one of the most powerful of Japan's 
yakuza bosses. In the 1970s, he was also the Japanese and Korean 
agent for the Lockheed Aircraft Corporation; his bribery efforts to 
get the Japanese government to buy Lockheed airplanes made him 
the central figure in the Lockheed scandal in 1978. The scandal pulled 
down the government of Prime Minister Tanaka but left the gang- 
ster, until his death in 1985, at least $7 million richer with which to 
expand his domain. Today it seems that his yakuza successors might 
consider the United States part of that domain. 

In 1985, "federal immigration inspectors at Honolulu International 
Airport, on special alert for Japanese gangsters, noted a curious sim- 
ilarity among some of the hundreds of tourists arriving from Japan 
each week: a little finger had been partly amputated." 13 



SIX 



I suspected the Tecos were involved. If they're fighting the 
communists, they must have links to the death sauads. For 
fear of being caught, they've compartmentalized their thing. 

^former League member 

In early april 1970 ; heavily armed police in the northern 
Mexico city of Hermosillo sealed off a section of Calle 14 de Abril 
and ; with guns drawn ; stormed one of its buildings. In its cluttered 
rooms, they discovered Nazi magazines and leaflets, piles of Hitler's 
book, Mem Kampf and code books. Most intriguing of all were a 
half-dozen grotesque papier-mache masks. 

The masks were props used at initiation ceremonies for one of 
Mexico's most violent and feared secret societies. The raid was a 
strike against the Tecos, a network of some three or four hundred 
neo-Nazis whose members were divided into cells and took oaths of 
blind obedience to their leaders. But the Tecos were not young swas- 
tika-clad misfits who plastered their bedroom walls with posters of 
Hitler; they were some of Mexico's most influential leaders— industri- 
alists, bankers, and college professors— and had been accused of co- 
ordinating innumerable acts of violence, including dozens of political 
assassinations, in previous years. 

The Hermosillo raid did not result in a large government investi- 
gation or dissolution of the Tecos. In Mexico, where corruption is 
rife and where the institutionalized ruling political party has a long 
tradition of tolerating— and playing off— extremist movements of both 



72 



the left and right ; the Tecos were able to control the damage done 
by the 1970 raid and continue their activities. They were still in 
place when the World Anti-Communist League came looking for a 
Latin American affiliate in 1972. 

Not only were the Tecos allowed to establish the Mexican League 
chapter, they were given a mandate to form the entire South and 
Central American regional organization of the League. Naturally, 
they chose kindred spirits, quickly making the Latin American Anti- 
Communist Confederation (CAL) one of the region's most powerful 
and deadly ultra-right federations. As "Lobo," the Honduran doctor/ 
assassin, told one of the authors in 1983, it was a federation that 
served as a coordinating body for death squads throughout the re- 
gion. In recent years, the slogan of the once-obscure Tecos, Contra la 
guerrilla roja, la guerrilla blanca ("Against the red guerrilla, the white 
guerrilla"), has been put into practice throughout the continent. 

Ironically, this prestige and influence, this "miracle," to quote the 
Tecos, would probably have never occurred if it hadn't been for the 
financial assistance of the U. S. government and some of America's 
largest philanthropic foundations. 

The Tecos trace their historical roots to the Mexican Revolution 
of the 1910s. Mexico was in the grip of a violent civil war that was 
greatly exacerbated by government anti-clerical campaigns. The 
Catholic Church, which owned vast tracts of the country, bore the 
brunt of the revolutionary zeal of a wide range of groups, ranging 
from impoverished and landless peasants to leftist intellectuals. Priests 
were murdered and churches were bombed or sacked. 

To defend the Church and fight back, the Legion of Christ the 
King, or Los Cristeros, was formed. The counterrevolutionary Cris- 
teros were a secret army that, like the Holy Crusaders they emulated, 
rode into battle with the blessings of priests. For them, this wasn't a 
revolution but a holy war, and they were fully prepared to die for 
their God and the Virgin against the "Satanists." In the ensuing 
strife, which took tens of thousands of Mexican lives, the Cristeros 
played their role. 

Upon the success of the Mexican Revolution, the Cristeros were 
officially disbanded. In the 1930s a French Jesuit priest, Bernardo 
Bergoend, sought to unite the Mexican Catholic opposition to counter 
the anti-Church government that had been installed. 



73 



Bergoend advanced a scheme for double organization; one group was 
to concern itself with political mass action, the other was to be a 
section devoted to social action. Bluntly, the mass organizations were 
to be directed from above by a select leadership, i.e., a secret society. 

Tecos . . . represented the effective leadership of this entire com- 
plex. . . . The members, especially the younger ones, were expected 
to fight, wherever and whenever this was indicated, for the interests 
of the Church and the country.' 

In these early days, the Tecos were not strictly a fascist organiza- 
tion; they were basically devout Catholics and traditionalists who 
took up arms to defend the old, established order. That changed, 
however, after World War II. Through the efforts of two men, a 
Mexican Nazi who had spent World War II in Germany and an 
Argentine Jesuit priest who admired Hitler, the Tecos became the 
spiritual mentors for many of the continent's neo-Nazi movements 
and, eventually, the coordinators of death squads throughout Central 
America. 

Carlos Cuesta Gallardo, the creator of the modem-day Tecos, spent 
World War II in Berlin. His exact role or function there is unknown. 
Some say he was a secretary to Hitler; others say he was a confidant 
of Alfred Rosenberg, the Nazi ideologue who formulated the German 
anti-Jewish policy and who was executed at Nuremberg. Whatever 
his role, Cuesta Gallardo was almost certainly used by the Germans 
in the hope of establishing a private Mexican army that would be 
sympathetic to Nazi goals on the United States ; s southern border. 
When Germany's plan for global conquest didn't work out, Cuesta 
Gallardo returned to Mexico but remained an ardent fascist and anti- 
Semite. 

Cuesta Gallardo settled in Guadalajara, the financial center of Mex- 
ico and its second-largest city; it is as well the historical home of the 
Cristeros. According to a report by an American League member in 
1973, "Today he leads a most secluded life in Guadalajara, never 
appearing in public. His house is a disguised fortress, well-guarded all 
the time." 

Cuesta Gallardo was not idle in his Guadalajara lair. He envisioned 
a renaissance of the Tecos, this time committed not only to fighting 
the anti-clerics in Mexico but also to battling all enemies wherever 
they existed throughout the world. Those enemies included the 



74 



United States, Jews, Freemasons, and most of the hierarchy of the 
Vatican Church, for they were all, according to Cuesta Gallardo, 
conspirators in the Jewish-Freemason-Communist plot to take over 
the world. 

When Cuesta Gallardo embarked on this mission in the late 1940s, 
he could count among his allies the "Nazi priests" whom he had 
met while he was in Germany. These Catholic clerics had collabo- 
rated with Germany and its allies during the war; many were not 
priests but were regular war criminals who, with Church assistance, 
had donned robes to facilitate their escape. They were now scattered 
throughout Western Europe and Latin America. The Tecos ; present 
ties to the "religious leaders" of the Croatian Ustasha and the Roma- 
nian Iron Guard most certainly date from their leader's tenure in 
Berlin.* 

Cuesta recruited a young Mexican intellectual, Raimundo Guer- 
rero, to his cause. Guerrero succeeded in drawing other right-wing 
students and academics into the Teco cabal and in time assumed its 
overt leadership. The real power, however, would always remain 
with the shadowy Cuesta. 

From the old Mexican Nazi's standpoint, Guerrero was a good 
choice as protege. In 1952, Guerrero was dispatched to Buenos 
Aires to represent Mexico at a conference of the World University 
Organization. There he made contact with other neo-Nazi student 
groups from around the world. In addition to forging a lasting 
relationship with the anti-Israel Arab League, it was in Buenos 
Aires that Guerrero came into contact with the Jesuit priest Julio 
Meinveille. 

Meinveille was an ultra-right Argentine ideologue who launched 
vitriolic literary attacks on the world's "plagues": Jews, Freemasons, 
and liberal elements of the Catholic Church. By 1952, Meinveille was 
already the spiritual leader of the Tacuaras, an Argentine secret so- 
ciety of neo-Nazis, and he would become the same for the Tecos. 
His hate books, including such tracts as The Jew, The Cabal of Progres- 
sivism, and Among the Church and the Reich, became the Tecos' Bibles. 
The Mexicans frequently distributed Meinveille's books at World 

*ln particular, the Tecos have close ties with the Romanian Iron Guard fascists 
of Horia Sima in Spain, and it could be more than coincidence that Teco "cells" 
are composed of thirteen followers, the same number as In the Iron C.uard 
"nests" 



75 



Anti-Communist League conferences ; and the aging priest was even 
invited to be the main speaker at the first CAL conference in Mexico 
City in 1972. 

Stefan Possony ; a professor emeritus at the conservative Hoover 
Institute at Stanford University and a longtime American League 
member, investigated the Tecos in the early 1970s. Pointing out 
Meinveille's importance to the Mexican neo-Nazis, he nonetheless 
portrayed the Argentine in a favorable light: 

He is a theologian with knowledge in the social sciences, and he is 
far more scholarly and also more moderate than the rest. He is knowl- 
edgable on many aspects of Communism, about which he wrote with 
wisdom and insight. He produced the overarching interpretation of 
history on which the reasoning of the Tecos literature is based. But 
he has also been the victim of obsessive ideas, especially anti-Semi- 
tism, in the pursuit of which he resorted to questionable methods. 2 

Despite Possony's characterization of Meinveille as a scholarly 
moderate, the "interpretation of history" that he gave the Tecos was 
one of violence, hatred, and paranoia. To them, practically all estab- 
lished leaders, whether in the religious, economic, or political fields, 
were traitors and tools of international Zionism. Franklin Roosevelt, 
Harry S. ("Solomon," according to the Tecos) Truman, and Nelson 
Rockefeller, they believe, were all Jews. So, too, were several leaders 
of the Spanish Carlists, a movement best known for its ardent Ca- 
tholicism and unwavering support of Generalissimo Francisco Franco, 
and so were conservative and Catholic politicians throughout South 
and Central America. The Tecos saw, and continue to see, all their 
enemies as performing assigned roles toward the secret Jewish plan 
of global domination. 

And their "enemies" quickly became an even larger bloc upon the 
inclusion of the Vatican Church under Pope John XXIII. Although 
many conservative Catholics were disturbed by what they saw as 
the liberal bent of the Pope and by the decrees that emerged from 
Vatican Council II in 1962, none reacted as bitterly or as blasphe- 
mously as the Mexican Tecos did in authoring the Compbt contra la 
Iglesia ("Conspiracy Against the Church"). 

The Compht remains one of the most scathingly anti-Semitic and 
unabashedly pro-Nazi tracts ever written. Translated into a half-dozen 
languages, it was supposedly the work of one "Maurice Pinay," a 



76 



fictitious name. The Italian edition was distributed at Vatican Coun- 
cil II, causing a minor uproar. 

We must join forces against Jewish imperialism and liberate our own 
peopIes ; all who are being kept captive by Jews, so that after victory 
over the worst imperialism the world has ever seen ... all countries 
can form a world organization. 

That world organization was clearly not to be the United Nations, 
for the UN is "controlled by the secret power of Jewry and Free- 
masonry and used for the purpose of securing the triumph of the 
imperialist schemes hatched by the Synagogue." 3 

The Complot went a step further than other apologists had in la- 
menting Nazi Germany's failure: "If they had confined themselves 
to saving their nation and Europe from the deadly threat [Judaism] 
they could not be blamed, and perhaps their commendable enterprise 
might have succeeded." 

Many journalists and shocked Church leaders attempted to dis- 
cover the true identity of the author of the Compht; they came to the 
conclusion that it was a collaborative effort of European neo-Nazis 
and Latin American fascists. Actual responsibility, however, be- 
longed to the Tecos, specifically Cuesta Gallardo and Garibi Velasco, 
another Teco leader; they were its major authors. 

The Tecos ; front man for the hate campaign at Vatican Council 
II was their theologian, Father Saenz y Arriaga, a Jesuit priest. At the 
close of the council, he issued a press release "signed" by twenty- 
eight conservative Catholic leaders that attacked the council for hav- 
ing "yielded to the pressures or to the money of Judaism." Most of 
the signatures were forgeries, and Saenz y Arriaga was later excom- 
municated. 

Some of the more moderate Tecos, disgusted at the group's ac- 
tions, broke away to form the Group of Puebla in 1964. The parting 
was not amicable. To the Tecos, the Pueblas had now proven them- 
selves to be part of the Jewish conspiracy. According to a South 
American rightist who has followed the Puebla-Teco split, "They've 
been killing each other ever since. Neither group is composed of 
saints." 4 

The rift between the Tecos and the Group of Puebla helped to 
bring some aspects of the secret society into the open. Mexican 
Church leadership, even some of its extremely conservative mem- 



77 



bers, criticized the Tecos. The cardinal of Guadalajara, Garibi y 
Rivera ; issued a letter in 1964 warning "students so that they 
would not go astray by those who ; with the pretext of fighting 
errors like Communism, built secret organizations in which it is 
demanded under oath of strict secrecy and obedience to unknown 
leaders and even with clear menaces to those who would break 
the orders given." 5 

Such denunciations did not destroy the secret society. Rather, 
the Tecos launched a public relations campaign, created political 
front groups, and established links with other neo-Nazis through- 
out Latin America, the United States, and Europe. One of their 
most successful operations, probably inspired by Raimundo Guer- 
rero's involvement in the World University Organization in the 
early 1950s, was in gaining influence and funding through the 
academic world. 

Throughout Latin America, there is a tradition of "autonomous 
universities." Theoretically at least, autonomous schools are legally 
allowed complete academic freedom, including immunity from re- 
percussions for teaching subjects like Marxism that could never safely 
be discussed outside the campus. Neither the army nor the police are 
allowed onto university grounds; security details are handled by uni- 
versity-selected personnel. This system has led to a dramatic irony: 
liberal or Marxist professors teach classes under the protection of 
campus autonomy in nations where liberals and Marxists are rou- 
tinely arrested, tortured, and/or murdered. 

The Tecos saw the Latin American autonomous university sys- 
tem, which was traditionally the domain of leftists, as a potential 
tool for themselves that could be used to propagate their views of 
communism and the international Jewish conspiracy; it could also be 
a funding source for their secret operations. The springboard for this 
goal of continental influence was the Teco-controlled Autonomous 
University of Guadalajara (UAG). 

Founded in 1935 by Carlos Cuesta Gallardo, the Guadalajara 
school had always been an understaffed and underfinanced institu- 
tion. In 1960, the school had a budget of fifty thousand dollars and 
consisted of a few disheveled buildings and a dusty campus. Then 
things changed: by 1962, when the Tecos turned their attention to 
this latent weapon at their disposal, they had already endeared them- 
selves to American officials whom they could count on for support. 



78 



"After years of financial starvation, Guadalajara [UAG] received 
money from the Rockefeller, Ford and Carnegie Foundations as well 
as from the Agency for International Development (AID). This happy 
change was accomplished by Luis Garibay, rector of the university 
and Guerrero's compadre." 6 

According to a confidential report prepared by Tradition, Family 
and Property (TFP), an ultra-conservative Catholic organization based 
in Brazil that has long been at odds with the Tecos, the man most 
responsible for putting the Tecos ; university on the map was Oscar 
Wiegand, the U.S. consul in Guadalajara. "He was so interested in 
the development of the small university, that he moved to Guada- 
lajara to follow up the process. Dr. Wiegand himself took Dean 
Garibay to visit 12 American universities to introduce him and his 
plans and to solicit 'donations.' ' n 

By 1975, the Autonomous University of Guadalajara had a budget 
of ten million dollars, in what Vice-Dean Antonio Leano, a high- 
ranking Teco, called a "miracle" of American and Mexican philan- 
thropy. That miracle was the result, of the funds provided by the 
U.S. government through the Agency for International Development 
(AID) and American philanthropic foundations. Between 1964 and 
1974, they had bestowed nearly twenty million dollars in grants to 
the Tecos' university. 

In all probability, some of the foundation and government officials 
responsible for clearing the grants to the university were not aware 
that it was dominated by the Tecos. Yet it is a rather glaring over- 
sight. Within the various university departments could be found most 
of the Tecos' top leaders, men responsible for previously delivering 
scathing attacks on the Vatican Church, Judaism, and, in fact, the 
United States. Further, "American money flowed only after Tecos, 
or related group, already had spent considerable amounts on the prep- 
aration, publication, translation and distribution of cosdy books, no- 
tably Complot." 6 

With the influx of American financial assistance, the Tecos at the 
Guadalajara campus were able to finance their nonacademic pro- 
grams. According to a Mexican political analyst who infiltrated the 
Tecos and attended their secret meetings, the grants and scholarship 
funds received from the United States were laundered through the 
university for Teco use. "Much of this money went to support the 
Teco 'political' activities," he said. 



79 



Their political activities were many. In addition to furthering their 
ties with neo-Nazis in Europe and South America and subsidizing 
the publication of their anti-Semitic magazine, Replica, the Tecos 
also now had the funds to establish political front groups, such as 
FEMACO (Mexican Anti-Communist Federation) and the IACCD 
(Inter-American Confederation of Continental Defense), to serve as 
liaisons to right-wing death squads; they became part of the World 
Anti-Communist League in 1972. 

Operating under the front group FEMACO, the Tecos' power 
within the League became enormous. Not only was Raimundo Guer- 
rero made an executive board member but the Mexicans proceeded 
to draw in their violent brethren from throughout Latin America 
with little or no review by the League's Asian godfathers. Since they 
had created the entire Latin network, the Tecos naturally assumed 
leadership of the Latin American Anti-Communist Confederation 
(CAL). 9 

Helped by their League credentials, the Tecos intensified their 
Replica hate campaigns. In freely reprinting articles from other 
League-affiliated magazines, such as the Canadian Intelligence Service 
and the Taiwan-based Asian Outlook, Replica remains today a forum 
wherein conspiracy theorists and neo-Nazis can rail against the 
Jewish-Freemason conspiracy. At the 1978 World Anti-Commu- 
nist League conference, the Tecos handed out reprints of an article 
attacking the television miniseries Holocaust as "Jewish propa- 
ganda." 10 

Their inclusion in the World Anti-Communist League also gave 
the Tecos a platform for airing their philosophy internationally and 
winning the notice and support of neo-Nazis everywhere. When 
Aktion Neue Recht ("New Right Action"), a German Nazi group, 
held a congress in Munich, Guerrero sent them a congratulatory tel- 
egram. The fascist Norwegian Norsk Rikt party heaped praise on the 
Mexican League chapter. In the late 1970s, when the chairman of 
the American chapter of the League tried to fill the European dele- 
gations with neo-Nazis and former SS officers, the Tecos under Guer- 
rero were among his principal supporters. 

Today, the Autonomous University of Guadalajara is a thriving 
institution of higher learning. It confers nearly sixty professional de- 
grees, and its president, Dr. Luis Garibay Gutierrez, was president of 



80 



the International Association of University Presidents in 1985. Still, 
many of its professors and students have secret memberships in the 
Tecos. Raimundo Guerrero is now a department dean. The Tecos 
so dominate the university that they have lent their name to its 
soccer team. Rallies are held in which, according to former students, 
swastika armbands are worn and allegiance to Nazism sworn. The 
Tecos operate their own armed university security police, and stu- 
dents are fed a heavy and steady diet of anti-communism and anti- 
Semitism. Visitors are required to have a special pass and are led 
about the campus by a "companion. 77 

An American former professor at the university and a Teco loyalist 
inadvertently revealed much of its inner workings. In an anonymous 
phone call to Dale Van Atta, an associate of syndicated columnist Jack 
Anderson, he defended the university but went on to explain the re- 
quired loyalty pledges, the pressure on professors of all nationalities to 
join the secret society, and the divisions of the Tecos 7 labors. 

There's basically three branches, the school administrators and profes- 
sors, the prefects, students who watch over other ones and analyze 
their political orientation, and the tecos dt choque [shock Tecos]. 

And could the shock Tecos be involved in death squads? 

I don't know. It— it wouldn't surprise me. 11 

He then hung up. 

When one of the authors exposed the Teco control of the Auton- 
omous University of Guadalajara and its links to Central American 
death squads in January and February 1984 in a series of articles with 
Jack Anderson, the school and its allies reacted heatedly. In addition 
to running a defending advertisement in The Washington Post, they 
denounced the Anderson columns in Mexico and Guatemala. One 
of the most amusing counterclaims made by the university was that 
the word Teco, or "owl/ 7 referred to "the students 7 devotion to late- 
night academic studies. 77 

The daughter of a Teco laughed at the explanation. "Yes, it does 
mean owl. Los Tecos are owls whose eyes are red. The members of 
the group are called Los Tecos because they are up all night doing 
their thing. 77 

"In CAL we are not pluralistic; we cannot be,' 7 Teco emissary 
Rafael Rodriguez declared to the World Anti-Communist League 



81 



conference in 1980. "The values of our faith ; of our culture ; of our 
civilization and of our nationalism are the only truth for which 
we live our anti-communism. Communists ; Marxists of any label, 
can only be situated in the enemy trenches. Our real mission is 
not to talk about communism but to fight communists." 



SEVEN 



The communists have already roughly decided that the time 
for conquering the world will be in 1973. 

rfred Schwarz, 
American League member, 
1971 



.Because of its financial resources and its status as the richest 
and most powerful nation in the West, the United States has al- 
ways been a major power within the World Anti-Communist 
League. U.S. chapters have historically been composed of main- 
stream conservative academics, retired military officers, and mem- 
bers of the so-called New Right. But not only have they permitted 
anti-Semitism and racism within their own regional branch, they 
have also consistently, through their silence and timidity, given 
tacit approval to the most reactionary and vicious elements within 
the League as a whole. 

The South and Central American chapters of the League have 
never concealed their theory that Jews are behind a global communist 
conspiracy. The South Africans have never made secret their staunch 
support of the racist policy of apartheid in their country, and the 
Arab chapters have never modified their militant diatribes against 
Israel and Zionism. 

These facts are known to the Americans. Their claims of 
ignorance are rather silly, since American members have consist- 
ently been responsible for uncovering much of the darker aspects 



83 

of the League ; then failing to act on the information until forced 
to do so. 

It was the Americans who revealed the Nazi nature of the Mexi- 
can Tecos in 1972. Not only did they not publicize their findings, 
but they remained in the League for another two years. In fact, many 
who eventually left have since rejoined, including the author of the 
Teco investigation. 

American League members were alerted as far back as 1973 to the 
rabid racism of Donald Martin and Ivor Benson, chairmen of the 
British and South African League chapters respectively, and both listed 
as foreign correspondents for the anti-Semitic, California-based Lib- 
erty Lobby. Yet both men were honored guest speakers at the North 
American regional League conference in 1984. 

The Americans were well aware of the allegations of death squad 
involvement among the Latin American affiliates, yet those elements 
were not expelled until 1984, after one of the authors helped to 
expose them in the press. Their alleged explusion notwithstanding, 
several of these Latins were present at the 1984 and 1985 conferences 
sponsored by the American League chapter. 

The Americans who have belonged to the World Anti-Commu- 
nist League consistently contend that they have attempted to be a 
moderating influence or that they were unaware of the unsavory 
nature of other League chapters. The evidence, however, much of it 
compiled by the Americans themselves, shows that they knowingly 
belonged to a federation of death squad leaders, Nazi war criminals, 
and neo-fascists. At best, they are showcases of naivete; a more crit- 
ical observer would say that they are showcases of far worse. 

The first American League Chapter was the American Council for 
World Freedom (ACWF), founded in 1970 in Washington, D.C. The 
main force behind its creation, and its first secretary, was Lee Ed- 
wards, head of a public relations firm and former director of Young 
Americans for Freedom, the youth arm of the John Birch Society. 

Edwards was a stalwart of the emergent New Right in American 
politics and brought his own questionable background and motives 
into the World Anti-Communist League as a professional fund-raiser. 
Along with a handful of other New Right fund-raisers such as Rich- 
ard Viguerie and Patrick Gorman, Edwards was in the business of 
raising donations for charitable or nonprofit organizations and then 



84 



keeping a large chunk of the money, sometimes over ninety percent, 
for his "operation expenses." His induction as the American League 
chairman in 1970 did not divert his energies from these endeavors; 
in 1971, he joined forces with Patrick Gorman to create Friends of 
the FBI. 

By that time, Gorman had already achieved a certain notoriety by 
operating the United Police Fund. The fund ; s aim, to aid the relatives 
of slain policemen, had succeeded in tugging at the heart- and purse- 
strings of those who received its brochures by displaying photo- 
graphs of the grieving families standing beside the fallen officers ; 
graves. "In two years," according to Alan Crawford in Thunder on the 
Right, "the project netted a reported $110,000, almost 90 percent of 
which went to fundraiser Gorman." 

Friends of the FBI was established to rally support for the agency 
and its director, J. Edgar Hoover; the recipients of its brochures were 
told that there was no better way to express that support than by 
sending donations to Edwards and Gorman. With the aid of an en- 
dorsement letter signed by Efrem Zimbalist, Jr., star of the television 
show The FBI, they raised nearly $400,000 dollars in four months, 
64 percent of which went toward "operation expenses"; the rest was 
divided up between Gorman and Edwards and their lieutenants. 
"Soon Zimbalist became suspicious, claiming he had been 'used' by 
the partners; and his lawyers told the group to stop using their client's 
name, accusing them in a letter of 'fraud and misrepresentation'." 1 

Edwards lined up an impressive array of conservative American 
leaders for the American Council for World Freedom to appear on 
its letterhead and to attend World Anti-Communist League func- 
tions. Lev Dobriansky, a former OSS officer in Germany during 
World War II and chairman of the National Captive Nations Com- 
mittee (and currently ambassador to the Bahamas), joined, as did Dr. 
Walter H. Judd, former Republican congressman from Minnesota; 
John Fisher, executive director of the American Security Council; and 
Reed Irvine, a longtime fixture of the far right. A year earlier, Irvine 
had established Accuracy in Media, "a watchdog of the media by 
promoting accuracy and fairness in reporting." ACWF's eventual 
president was retired Army Major General Thomas Lane; Eleanor 
Schlafly represented the Cardinal Mindszenty Foundation. 2 

The Unification Church in the United States was also involved; 
Neil Salonen— president of the Church in the United States, secretary 



85 

general of the Freedom Leadership Foundation, and a director of the 
Moonie-owned Tong-il Armaments Company in Korea— was on the 
ACWF board. In 1973 Salonen achieved fame of sorts by joining the 
Reverend Moon on the Capitol steps for a three-day fast and prayer 
vigil beseeching God not to allow Richard Nixon ; s impeachment. 

Through the prominent conservatives who made up the American 
Council for World Freedom, the League was able to get American 
senators and congressmen to attend conferences and serve as guest 
speakers. Strom Thurmond, Republican senator from South Caro- 
lina, and Robert Dornan, Republican congressman from California, 
both spoke at League conferences in the early 1970s. 

Not all the council members were ecstatic over its joining the 
League. One, David Rowe, the man who had been sent to reform 
the Korean chapter of the Asian Peopled Anti-Communist League in 
1965, actually quit over his objections to the League's Taiwanese 
chairman, Ku Cheng-kang. 3 * 

Despite Rowe's objections, the ACWF did join the League, largely 
through the efforts of Stefan Possony, professor emeritus at the Hoo- 
ver Institute at Stanford University. Ironically it was also Possony 
who would eventually launch an investigation which would dis- 
credit not only the Latin American chapters of the League but also 
the American Council for World Freedom. 

At the 1972 League conclave in Mexico City, it was decided that 
the next League conference would be held in London. In accordance 
with one of the League's more peculiar rules, the international chair- 
manship for the following year automatically went to the sponsor 
of the preceding conference, that is, to the Mexican chapter; this was 
the Mexican Anti-Communist Federation, or FEMACO, headed by 
Teco professor Raimundo Guerrero. 

In reaction to the persistent rumors of extremism within FEMACO, 
the Americans sent Possony to investigate their Mexican League 
counterpart. It was soon apparent that FEMACO was merely a cover 
for the Teco secret society. 

Tecos is not only anti-Semitic, it is also anti-American and opposes 

'Despite his animosity for Ku Cheng-kang, Rowe rejoined the WACL and 
attended League conferences in 1983 and 1984, while Ku Cheng-kang was still 
honorary chairman, 



86 



most of the goals ACWF stands for ; e.g., freedom. It claims to be la 
legion de Cristo Rey, which is fighting for the re-establishment of a 
ChrisMan order, but it regards the Church as infiltrated by Jews and 
Masons, and wants Pope Paul VI— supposedly a concealed Jew and 
drug addict— to be deposed as a heretic. 

Although the cristcro movement predates the various nazi and fas- 
cist movements, Tecos has personal and ideological links with the 
remnants of the Rumanian [sic] Iron Guard and possibly the Croat 
Ustashis. It seems to be connected with several neo-fascist move- 
ments. Nazi traces are visible. ... I found no references to represent- 
ative government, none to democracy or national self-determination. 

In the conclusion to his confidential report to the ACWF, Possony 
warned, "It would be a mistake to forget that anti-Semitism and anti- 
masonism serve to conceal anti-Americanism" and that "ACWF as- 
sociation with enemies of the United States is unacceptable." 4 

Confronted with this detailed investigation by one of its own 
most respected members, the ACWF met in Washington in April 
1973 to discuss what should be done about the Mexicans. The meet- 
ing was a study in cowardice. 

One council member felt that something had to be done about 
anti-Semitism in the League and urged the ACWF to go on record 
that "anti-Semitism is incompatible with anti-communism." An- 
other dissented, holding that "the motion would be a political mis- 
take as it would imply we have a guilty conscience." 

Finally, "Mr. [Reed] Irvine proposed the following amendment: 
'Anti-Semitism is incompatible with enlightened, civilized conduct 
and we condemn the communist states for the practice of it. ; " 

Irvine's motion passed overwhelmingly. Thus the ACWF, after 
gathering firm evidence of the neo-fascist sentiments of its Mexican 
counterpart, did nothing. The ACWF remained in the League and 
would perhaps still be there if it weren't for its own carelessness: 
The council initiated its self-destruction in 1973 when it sent a copy 
of Possony's report to Geoffrey Stewart-Smith, the head of the Brit- 
ish League chapter and the proposed sponsor of the upcoming League 
conference. 

Stewart-Smith was a staunch anti-communist who saw the need 
for nations and private groups to work together to combat what he 
saw to be the Soviet strategy for global domination; the World Anti- 
Communist League appeared to be a good vehicle toward this. He 



87 



was not prepared, however, to count among his comrades in the 
struggle Nazis, anti-Semites, and "Kuomintang geriatrics." 

A former Conservative member of Parliament, Stewart-Smith was 
also the director of the Foreign Affairs Circle, a think tank located 
outside London that published conservative monographs on foreign 
policy matters. Under Stewart-Smith, the Foreign Affairs Circle joined 
the League and was the official British chapter from 1972 to 1974. 

The planning for the 1973 conference in London was already in 
trouble before Stewart-Smith received the Possony memos, for the 
Foreign Affairs Circle was being less than acquiescent to the wishes 
of the League leadership. 5 Stewart-Smith was refusing to invite the 
European Nazis that the Latin American and Asian chapters had 
asked to attend, and he fired off angry letters to the chapters respon- 
sible. 

One case that particularly galled the Briton was that of Jesus Pa- 
lacios, Spanish representative of the World Youth Anti-Communist 
League, the League's youth arm. Since Palacios had attended the 1972 
League conference, and since his organization, the Anti-Marxist In- 
tellectual Group of Spain, was a full associate member, he was enti- 
tled by League rules to attend the London conference. Parliamentary 
technicalities notwithstanding, Stewart-Smith balked. 

Palacios was also a founder of an ultra-rightist shock troop called 
the Spanish Circle of Friends of Europe (CEDADE). Founded in Bar- 
celona in 1969, CEDADE declared itself to be a "national-revolu- 
tionary" force with an aim "to oppose the tendency of defaming the 
positive aspects of the National Socialist Movement." As head of the 
group's Madrid chapter, Palacios, clad in a brown shirt and black tie, 
reminded his listeners that Marxism was simply a tool to "install the 
tyranny of the Jews." CEDADE published monographs such as The 
Myth of Christ's Judaism and Hitler and the Church: The Lie of Hitler's 
Atheism and concluded its meetings with a Nazi salute and a cheer 
for the fallen idols, Hitler and Mussolini. "It would seem beyond 
reasonable doubt," Stewart-Smith wrote Ku Cheng-kang in May 
1973, "that Jesus Palacios is a neo-Nazi." 

When no response was forthcoming, the Foreign Affairs Circle 
director wrote to Dr. Bastolme Puiggros, the head of the Spanish 
League chapter. "If you need references concerning Senor Palacios," 
Puiggros responded, "Mr. Ku Cheng-Kang through his government 
can ask for a report from the Taiwan Delegation in Madrid; and 



88 



they will certainly inform you of the cordial relationship between 
the said Delegation and Senor Palacios." 6 

It was now apparent that Stewart-Smith was sending warnings 
about Nazism in the League to the very people who were coordi- 
nating it ; and the coordinators were not pleased. Finally tiring of the 
British chapter's obstructionist attitude ; the League leadership can- 
celed the London summit at the last minute ; sticking the Foreign 
Affairs Circle with a bill for eighty-four thousand dollars. Their ef- 
forts to recover the money are still tied up in international courts 
thirteen years later. 

"The World Anti-Communist League/' Stewart-Smith now says 
in retrospect ; "is largely a collection of Nazis ; Fascists ; anti-Semites ; 
sellers of forgeries ; vicious racialists ; and corrupt self-seekers. It has 
evolved into an anti-Semitic international. . . . The very existence of 
this organization is a total disgrace to the Free World." 

Stewart-Smith was the first League member to realize the League's 
nature and attempt to reform it. When he obtained the Possony 
memos describing the anti-Semitic history and violent nature of the 
Mexicans ; whose chapter was the most powerful in Latin America ; 
he realized the true face of some of the "anti-communists" he was 
associated with. Even more ; he was outraged that the American 
chapter ; the source of the memos, had not only made no move to 
publicize their findings or leave the League but were going ahead 
with their plans to host the 1974 conference. "Anti-Semitism and 
political extremism/' Stewart-Smith wrote Lee Edwards in June 1973 ; 
"could destroy WACL. [If they are not expelled] the organization 
will remain a collection of fringe ultra-rightists ; religious nuts ; aging 
ex-Nazis ; emigres and cranks." 

The Americans did not respond to the letter. Stewart-Smith was 
not prepared to assume the see-no-evil stance of the Americans; he 
did some investigative work on his own. In January 1974 ; he wrote 
Edwards again ; this time threatening media exposure if the ACWF 
did not cancel its conference sponsorship. "The results of a very 
thorough piece of research by this organization reveals that some of 
the Chapters, associates and observers are drawn from neo-Nazi, ex- 
Nazi, fascist, neo-fascist and anti-Semitic groups." 

"You know very well/' Thomas Lane, president of the ACWF, 
responded, "that WACL had its origins in the struggles of the free 



89 



peoples of Asia who are on the front lines of the resistance to Com- 
munism. ... As to the alleged anti-Semitism of other chapters of 
WACL, your evidence seems to be based on guilt by association and 
by an alleged association at that. . . . We shall, of course, proceed 
under full sail to prepare our WACL conference in Washington." 7 

But Stewart-Smith had powerful ammunition. He sent six hundred 
copies of a report, WACL and Anti-Semitism, to all League chapters and 
to every associate of the American Council for World Freedom. By 
including the Possony memos along with his own findings, his re- 
port gave the appearance that the ACWF had joined forces with the 
Foreign Affairs Circle against the Mexicans. It placed Thomas Lane 
in the unenviable position of refuting the evidence of his own organi- 
zation. "You have apparently seriously misread the evidence you 
offer/' he wrote Stewart-Smith. "The chief piece, called an 'ACWF 
report 7 is not an ACWF report at all. It is on its face the statement 
of one individual. . . . This 'report 7 does not pertain to the Mexican 
chapter of WACL but to a secret organization thought by the writer 
to have interlocking membership with the chapter." 8 

But the damage had been done, and the ACWF, despite its des- 
perate attempts to maintain its position within the League, could not 
last. Ironically, by including the Possony memos in his mass mailing, 
Stewart-Smith helped destroy not the WACL but the ACWF. In the 
eyes of the Latin chapters, the Possony memos showed the American 
Council for World Freedom to be not only an enemy of anti-com- 
munism but, worse, Zionist. They rallied around the maligned Tecos 
of Mexico. "Both Stewart-Smith and the American Council for 
World Freedom," the Uruguayan chapter wrote in March 1974, 
"with these documents and other attitudes are doing communism 
the enormous service of attempting to create divisions and problems 
in the WACL, acting as if they were cryptocommunists infiltrated 
in the anticommunist ranks to carry out sabotage." 

The Bolivian chapter was even more forceful, if less grammatic 
"The absurd memorandum of the American Council for World Free- 
dom sent to us by Stewart-Smith in addition to being obviously a 
pro-Zionist document proves what has been said that the American 
council is one of the instruments of Zionism to control the WACL 
and use it for benefit of Zionist interests that use the myth of anti- 
Semitism to frighten or attempt to paralyze those who refuse to 
become puppets of Zionism." 9 



90 



Still, the ACWF wasn't ready to give up. Although bearing the 
brunt of venomous diatribes from the Latin League chapters, it went 
on to host the 1974 conference. There it made a feeble attempt to 
give the League at least the appearance of respectability: the ACWF 
introduced a motion to declare the League against anti-Semitism and 
extremism. The Latins were outraged. 

It was decided, the Tecos reported afterward, "through an over- 
whelming majority of votes to suppress for the time being any ref- 
erence to these problems, which are totally alien to the 
anticommunist fight; later on . . . very plainly and also with over- 
whelming majority it was agreed to reject the project, with the result 
that it was not even presented for consideration to the General As- 
sembly. ... A completely different resolution condemning the defa- 
mation activities and the attacks of Geoffrey Stewart-Smith against 
WACL was unanimously approved." 10 

Although some former council members state that they finally left 
in January 1975 because of the extremism in the League— extremism 
they had failed to modify— at least as important a reason was that 
they were no longer trusted by the Latin fascists. 11 

The American Council for World Freedom withered; its officers 
went off to join other New Right organizations. 

Perhaps the greatest success story among former ACWF officials 
is Lee Edwards. Joining forces with Richard Viguerie, the "king of 
fund-raisers," he served as editor of Conservative Digest upon that mag- 
azine's founding in 1975. Edwards also was the chief fund-raiser for 
the Underground Bible Fund. According to Democratic Representa- 
tive Lionel Van Deerlin, the fund "undertook to persuade prospective 
donors that for every $2 that came in there would be five Bibles 
[delivered] in the native tongue of an Iron Curtain country . . . [but] 
we couldn't ascertain whether one single Bible had ever been deliv- 
ered to one single person behind the Iron Curtain, despite more than 
$200,000 that had been collected." 12 

Edwards is believed to have made off with over eighty percent of 
the funds and probably nearly as much through his next operation, 
"Save Our Symbol," purportedly a campaign to protect bald eagles. 

Perhaps Edwards's true colors— and the reason why he never 
seemed to be very upset by anti-Semitism within the World Anti- 
Communist League— were shown when he joined Viguerie in an 



91 



attempt to take over the virulently racist American Independent Party 
(AIP) in 1976. Aided by New Rightists Howard Phillips and Paul 
Weyrich, they sought the nomination of Robert Morris (currently 
on the board of directors of the new American League chapter) as 
AIP's presidential candidate, with Viguerie for vice-president. 13 

Although the move failed and the AIP's perennial nominee, Lester 
Maddox ; the bigoted former governor of Georgia, remained at the 
helm ; the venture serves as another example of just how far men 
like Lee Edwards would go— and what they would overlook— in their 
search for allies. Bankrolling themselves by running "charities" with 
exorbitant operating costs ; they sought out others who shared their 
apocalyptic vision of the takeover of the world by communists and 
their "fellow travellers/' whether in the American Independent Party 
or in the World Anti-Communist League. Today Edwards is presi- 
dent of the Center for International Relations, a conservative think 
tank funded by the Reagan Administration. 

Evidence suggests that several American members of the World 
Anti-Communist League were not as disgusted by the neo-Nazism 
as they contend they were. Stefan Possony ; Lev Dobriansky ; and 
Jay Parker ; all original ACWF members, returned to the League fold 
later ; this time under the banner of the United States Council for 
World Freedom. They rejoined at a time when the Mexican Tecos ; 
whose presence had supposedly spurred their exit the first time ; were 
still very active. Even Edwards seemed to have a soft spot for the 
organization; as late as. 1982 ; seven years after his official departure, 
his public relations firm was the registered foreign agent for the World 
Anti-Communist League. 

However unfounded the fears of the League's Latin representatives 
that the ACWF was part of the "Zionist conspiracy" seem ; they 
would have no such troubles with the next American chapter. 

With the resignation of the American Council for World Freedom 
in 1975, the door was open for an energetic neo-Nazi to transform 
the face of the League in the United States and Europe, plunging it 
even further into the depths of fanaticism. 



EIGHT 



Western Destiny's duty remains to carry the message of 
true White, Western Culture further afield to more and yet 
more members of our race. . . . Our Race can only survive if 
we can prevent them Jews and blacks] from capturing the 
minds, morals and souls of our children. 

fl&ger Pearson, 
Editor of Western Destiny, 
1965 

The letter from President Reagan is a source of pride in Roger 
Pearson's small office in downtown Washington, D.C. 

You are performing a valuable service in bringing to a wide audience 
the work of leading scholars who are supportive of a free enterprise 
economy, a firm and consistent foreign policy and a strong national 
defense. 

Your substantial contributions to promoting and upholding those 
ideals and principles that we value at home and abroad are greatly 
appreciated. 1 

The letter had been a boon for Pearson, who used it in soliciting 
donations and subscriptions to his magazines and to show the ap- 
proval of conservatives, up to and including the president, of his 
myriad activities. Indeed, Pearson has traveled in New Right circles 
for many years, formerly as an editorial associate for such main- 
stream organizations as the Heritage Foundation and the American 
Security Council, and currently as chairman of the Council on 



93 



American Affairs and editor of The Mankind Quarterly and The Journal 
of Social, Political and Economic Studies. He has also maintained an 
interest in international politics ; as evidenced by his three years as 
head of the American chapter of the World Anti-Communist 
League. 

In fairness to Reagan ; the president was probably not aware of 
some of Roger Pearson's past activities. Yet when White House of- 
ficials were told of Pearson's background ; they neither disavowed 
nor repudiated the letter. What the president had done was offer his 
support— and provide a very useful fund-raising tool— to one of the 
most persistent neo-Nazis in the world. 

For Roger Pearson is a man of several personalities. On the one 
hand ; he is a mainstream conservative, hobnobbing with officials of 
the New Right, publishing articles written by senators and congress- 
people in his journals. On the other ; he is a white supremacist who 
warns of the dangers of whites breeding with "inferior" stock, ad- 
vocates the measurement of craniums to determine intelligence, and 
once bragged to an associate about his alleged role in hiding Nazi 
doctor Josef Mengele, the infamous "Angel of Death" of the Ausch- 
witz extermination camp. He is also the man who, as world chair- 
man of the World Anti-Communist League in 1978, was responsible 
for flooding the European League chapters with Nazi sympathizers 
and former officers of the Nazi SS. 

Now active in American conservative political causes and residing 
in Washington, Pearson is a Briton who lived for twenty years in 
India. Before Indian independence in 1947, he served as a colonial 
Indian army officer, then as manager of a tea plantation in what is 
now Bangladesh. 

Obtaining his bachelor of science degree in anthropology from the 
University of London in 1951 and his master's in economics in 1954, 
Pearson showed an early interest in eugenics, a pseudoscientific study 
first made popular by the Nazis that holds that a human racial stock 
can be improved by selective genetic breeding. Likewise, a racial stock 
can be diluted by the introduction of an "inferior" breed. He wrote 
several books on the subject, including Eugenics and Race and Race and 
Civilization (the latter of which credits Professor Hans F. K. Gunther, 
a Nazi racial theoretician, for its inspiration). Both books are still sold 
by the American Nazi Party. 



94 



Only by tracing descent through several generations can one be sure 
that a stock is healthy, and does not contain bad elements. It must be 
possible to show that the donor has a "pure" and "healthy" genetic 
constitution. . . . This means that he must be "racially" pure— capable 
of breeding true to the healthy lines required. If in his family history 
there are inherited faults present in his genes, due to earlier crossing 
with unhealthy stock, then the individual cannot be allowed to donate 
either egg or sperm. . . . When that is achieved we shall have a "pure 
race." 2 

But Pearson was not content to air his theories in obscure books; 
he wanted to form an alliance with like-minded men whereby the 
tenets of racial purity could, as in Nazi Germany, be put into practice. 
Toward that end, in 1957 he helped establish the Northern League 
for Pan-Nordic Friendship, an umbrella group for historical revision- 
ists, scientific racists, and old Nazis from the "Aryan" nations of the 
world. Billed as an organization to instruct peoples of Northern Euro- 
pean descent about the vitality of their ancestral heritage, namely 
pre-Christian Nordic paganism, one basic tenet of the Northern 
League was that "further human progress can only be sustained if 
the biological heritage is preserved, and a cultural decline must inevit- 
ably follow any decay in the biological heritage or falling-off of gene- 
tic quality." 3 

The Northern League established contacts with other groups in 
Sweden, Denmark, and Germany and opened a branch in Sausalito, 
California. Attending its first conference in Detmold, West Ger- 
many, was Colin Jordan, a British neo-Nazi, and Wilhelm Landig, a 
former SS officer. According to an internal WACL document, "The 
program and manifest from the Conference was described by Ger- 
man authorities as 'national socialism revived'. The Detmold Con- 
ference decided that members should use the conspiratorial method 
of expanding the influence of the Northern League." 4 

Under pressure from various Western European governments, the 
Northern League never received the recognition Pearson sought. By 
the 1960s, however, Pearson's racial writings and activities in Europe 
had come to the attention of an American named Willis Carto. A 
historical revisionist (believing the Holocaust to have been a hoax 
perpetrated by the Jewish-controlled press) and a rabid racist, Carto 
headed the California -based Liberty Lobby. In 1960, Liberty Lobby 
had praised the American Nazi Party and its leader, Lincoln Rock- 



95 



well, who was later murdered in Arlington, Virginia, by a rival Nazi. 
Carto apparently saw in Pearson a "fellow traveller" with a gift for 
words and persuaded Pearson in 1965 to relocate to the United States 
and become editor of Liberty Lobby's magazine, Western Destiny. 

Pearson worked briefly with Western Destiny, writing several books 
on race and eugenics for Liberty Lobby's publishing arm. After an 
amicable parting with Carto, Pearson immersed himself in the aca- 
demic mainstream of his adopted country, teaching anthropology at 
Queens College in North Carolina and at the University of Southern 
Mississippi before becoming dean of academic affairs at the Montana 
College of Mineral Science and Technology. By 1975, he was ready 
for another career move, this time to Washington, D.C., to become 
founder and president of the Council on American Affairs (CAA). 

The council, which is still in existence, is typical of many back- 
room councils and organizations operating in the nation's capital that 
solicit funds and sell subscriptions for a wide variety of causes and 
publications using different names and post office boxes, but all em- 
anating from a single entity. From his office just off Logan Circle, 
Pearson not only accepts funds for the Council on American Affairs 
but also peddles The Mankind Quarterly, the Journal on Social, Political 
and Economic Studies, and the Journal of Indo-European Studies, a highly 
technical linguistic quarterly. 

Besides being a means to keep himself financially solvent in the 
mid-1970s, the CAA gave Pearson the opportunity to collaborate 
with leaders of the New Right and elicit the support of conservative 
congressmen and senators. In short order, he was on the editorial 
board of the Heritage Foundation, the Foreign Policy Research Insti- 
tute, and the American Security Council. Senators Jake Garn 
(R-Utah) and Carl T. Curtis (R-Nebraska) wrote articles for mon- 
ographs published by Pearson's council. Senator Jesse Helms (R- 
North Carolina) and Representatives Jack Kemp (R-New York) and 
Philip Crane (R-Illinois) contributed to the Journal of Social and Political 
Studies (renamed Journal of Social, Political and Economic Studies in 1980). 

Pearson had carved his niche into New Right political circles and 
had been accepted by 1976, just in time to come to the attention of 
the World Anti-Communist League when it was looking for a new 
American affiliate. When the American Council for World Freedom 
quit, the League turned to Roger Pearson and his council to rekindle 
the flame in the United States. 



96 

It was a responsibility that Pearson clearly took to heart. In the 
next three years ; he was the man most responsible for turning the 
League into a platform for Norwegian neo-Nazis ; German SS officers, 
and Italian terrorists wanted for murder. 

When Pearson looked at the World Anti-Communist League in 
1976, he saw a strong international federation, with one major ex- 
ception. 

The Latin American affiliates were firmly controlled by the Tecos 
of Mexico; the Australian and South African chapters were com- 
posed of historical revisionists, anti-Semites, and Eastern European 
emigres drawn largely from the Romanian Iron Guard and the Cro- 
atian Ustasha; the Eastern Europeans, under the Anti-Bolshevik Bloc 
of Nations umbrella, had not swayed from the course; the Asian 
delegations were primarily government ministers and high military 
officers from their respective anti-communist governments who could 
not be touched anyway since they were the League's founders. Where 
Pearson saw the weak link was in Western Europe. 

There the chapters were run by prominent mainstream conserva- 
tives, some of whom had fought against the Nazis during World 
War II. They were clearly the odd men out, and Pearson set about 
planning their replacement with "true" anti-communists. Pearson 
saw in the League the chance to close the circle, to unite the neo- 
Nazis of Europe under the banner of the World Anti-Communist 
League, which he had failed to do fifteen years earlier with the 
Northern League. 

As head of the new American chapter of the League, Pearson 
immediately reshaped the European affiliates. He turned not only to 
his old cohorts in the Northern League but also to those who fell 
under the leadership of an aging Swedish fascist named Per Engdahl. 

According to a confidential internal League document, "Engdahl 
is the 'grand old man 7 of Swedish and European Fascist ideology. He 
first belonged to 'Sweden's Fascist Struggle Organization 7 , then he 
held positions in various Fascist and pro-Nazi organizations and poli- 
tical mini-parties during the 1930 7 s and 1940 7 s. 775 He was also the 
coauthor of a book, Germany Fighting, that has a swastika emblazoned 
on its cover and features a photo of Hitler on an inside page. 

More important, in 1950 Engdahl had joined forces with Giorgio 
Almirante, the leader of Italy's fascist party Italian Social Movement 



97 



(MSI), to form the European Social Movement, a fascist federation 
with chapters throughout Western Europe. Known by its German 
acronym, ESB, the European Social Movement was probably the 
largest European ultra-right union operating after the end of World 
War II; it reached into twelve countries. The head of the British 
chapter was Oswald Mosley, the leader of the British National Front; 
he had attired his followers in Nazi-style uniforms and urged peace 
with Hitler during the war. The Hungarians-in-exile were repre- 
sented by the Hungarist Movement of Arpad Henney, the second- 
in-command of the 1944 Hungarian government that had seen to 
the liquidation of over a half -million of its nation's Jews. The Ger- 
man chapter was led by Karl Heinz Priester, a former SS officer and 
former press and propaganda chief of the Hitler Youth. Austria was 
represented by Wilhelm Landig, "a former SS officer with cultural 
interests," according to Per Engdahl. 

It was to these men and their younger followers that Pearson 
turned in 1977 for help in reforming the European affiliates of the 
World Anti-Communist League. With the support of the Mexicans 
and the new extremist British chapter, he oversaw their induction 
into the League. 

At the 1978 League conference in Washington, D.C., which was 
organized and officiated by Roger Pearson, there were some new 
faces among the delegations from Europe. Sitting in the Belgian del- 
egation was dapper St. C. de Berkelaar. Representing Norway was 
a handsome black-haired man with a handlebar moustache named 
Tor Hadland. Ake Lindsten, a stoop-shouldered old man with white 
hair, sat nearby, heading the Swedish delegation. From Austria was 
Wilhelm Landig; from Germany, Heinrich Hartle; and from Italy, 
Giorgio Almirante. All these observers were there upon the personal 
invitation of Roger Pearson. 

St. C. de Berkelaar was a former Dutch SS officer; his organiza- 
tion, Sint Martinsfonds, was a brotherhood of three to four hundred 
former Nazi collaborators in the Netherlands. It published a maga- 
zine, Berkenkmis, whose name (literally, "birch cross") refers to the 
SS custom of placing crossed birch branches on the graves of fallen 
comrades. 

Tor Hadland was head of the Norwegian Front, a right-wing shock 
troop that had first gained notice by holding a commemoration on 
the thirtieth anniversary of Vidkun Quisling's death. Quisling, whose 



98 



name is now a synonym for "traitor/ 7 was the Nazi puppet leader 
of Norway during World War II; he was executed in 1945 for war 
crimes. 

Chairman of the Swedish National League, Ake Lindsten had a 
fascist history dating back to World War II, when he advocated 
alignment with Nazi Germany. The secretary general of his organi- 
zation, Ola Albinsson, had recently been arrested and sent to a psy- 
chiatric institute. 

Heinrich Hartle was a former Nazi official and an associate of the 
notorious Nazi ideologue Alfred Rosenberg; Wilhelm Landig, the 
"former SS officer with cultural interests," was president of the Aus- 
trian chapter of the European Social Movement. 

Giorgio Almirante, once a minor official in Mussolini's Black- 
shirts, was head of the Italian Social Movement (MSI), whose youth 
groups and organizational offshoots were blamed for much of the 
wave of rightist terrorism in Italy during the preceding five years. 

Almirante was the most important of the League newcomers, per- 
haps in the League as a whole that year. As chief of Italy's fourth- 
largest political party, Almirante had risen to prominence by capital- 
izing on and fueling Italy's ongoing "civil war of terror." 

Almirante's strategy follows Mussolini's early tactics: During times of 
crisis, violence should be employed to arouse and polarize the pub- 
lic. . . . Neo-Fascists murdered innocent people in the streets, and left- 
ists retaliated with arson attacks. All attempts to outlaw the MSI have 
failed, despite an official report which states that the party "glorifies 
the goals of Fascism" and employs "violence as a political weapon." 6 

Almirante had earlier joined forces with Pino Rauti. Rauti, a jour- 
nalist in horn-rimmed glasses, had authored such books as Fundamen- 
tals of Fascist Racial Theory and formed the ultra-right Ordine Nuovo 
("New Order") in 1956. Borrowing the SS slogan "Our honor is our 
loyalty," Ordine Nuovo was one of the most violent of the rightist 
groups operating in Italy and was responsible for dozens of murders. 
Rauti was arrested in 1972 on charges of organizing a series of 1969 
bombings in which at least sixteen people were killed. Finally, Italian 
authorities outlawed Ordine Nuovo in 1973, and Rauti, back on the 
streets, joined Almirante; he later became a Deputy of Parliament 
under the MSI banner. In 1980 the Armed Revolutionary Nuclei, an 



99 



offshoot of his Ordine Nuovo, was blamed for the Bologna railway 
massacre in which over eighty innocent people died. 

The Pearson coup in Europe was not accepted with resignation 
by the less-radical chapters that had been usurped; they fought the 
infusion of European fascists into the League. "As you will read in 
this letter/' Dr. Broekmeijer, president of the pre-1978 Dutch League 
chapter, wrote to the Danish chapter in March 1979, "there is in the 
Netherlands as well an organization of 300 to 400 former Dutch SS- 
traitors, closely related to a similar organization in Germany. Already 
one and a half years ago ; I warned [WACL] of this Dutch SS-organi- 
zation and particularly for [sic] Dr. de Berkelaar ; the chairman of that 
organization. 

"WACL has already made a big mistake by inviting Dr. de Ber- 
kelaar during the WACL conference in New York [actually Wash- 
ington]. He was at that time in New York and Dr. Ku [Cheng-kang] 
liked to have a Dutchman as observer and representing the Nether- 
lands. ... I made an investigation and found that he was the leader 
of a former Nazi group. He had a recommendation letter of Dr. 
Pearson." 7 

Broekmeijer's complaints were ignored by Ku Cheng-kang and 
heads of other League chapters. The message was clear: the World 
Anti-Communist League espoused "active" anti-communism. It 
didn't want old men and their theories and monographs. It wanted 
men of action who were willing to fight for their convictions and 
who had support among the youth. If those men were also former 
SS officers who held rallies in European forests, whose followers 
threatened and attacked Jews and leftists^ it was a small price to pay 
for global brotherhood. 

Besides, Pearson had powerful friends within the League hier- 
archy. Donald Martin, British correspondent for Carto's Liberty Lobby, 
author of racist books, and peddler of the forged Protocols of the Elders 
of Zion, was a close ally. (Martin was also chairman of the British 
League of Rights, a racist, anti-emigration outfit that became the new 
League chapter after the resignation of the Foreign Affairs Circle.) 
The Tecos in Mexico ; as well as the Ustasha in the Croatian Libera- 
tion Movement ; also liked Pearson's stand on matters. With their 
support, he was able to pursue his program of remaking the League 
in Europe to his own suiting. 

In November 1978, Pearson organized a conclave of Nazis and 



100 



their sympathizers from throughout Europe in Vienna. Now, he told 
them, was the time to go truly international under the banner of the 
World Anti-Communist League; by April, seventeen groups had ap- 
plied for admission. The names on the petitions, most of which were 
submitted on the recommendation of Pearson and seconded by Don- 
ald Martin, represented one of the greatest fascist blocs in postwar 
Europe. 

Some of the applications were contradictory and overlapping. 
St. C. de Berkelaar, for example, applied both under Sint Martins- 
fonds and under Berkenkruis, the Sint Martinsfonds newspaper. 
Other proposed chapters were little more than hastily created "or- 
ganizations" operating out of post-office boxes. What most of the 
petitioners had in common was that they were former collabora- 
tors with Nazi Germany. Along with the men who had attended 
the 1978 League conference as observers were some new names, 
including Erno (Gyula) Gombos, the new head of the Hungarist 
Movement, and Roeland Raes, head of the Dutch Voorpost. "They 
are actionists," an internal League document stated about the Voor- 
post, "very often appearing as para-military units, in helmets and 
jack-boots. " B 

But this time Pearson and his allies had gone too far. Groups on 
the European right rallied together to combat the Nazi influx. The 
World Anti-Communist League was deeply divided, with most of 
the Latin chapters rallying to Pearson's side, the Asians ambivalent, 
and the pre-Pearson European chapters threatening to quit. Ku Cheng- 
kang called a hasty League executive committee meeting, and an 
agreement of sorts was reached: the old European chapters would 
not be expelled as Pearson wanted, but the new applicants would be 
invited to attend the upcoming 1979 conference in Asuncion, Para- 
guay, as observers. 

At least one of those new Europeans who attended came away 
very impressed, seeing the League as a possible source of funding for 
his group back in Europe: Tor Hadland of the fascist Norwegian 
Front, whose journey to Paraguay was reportedly subsidized by the 
leader of the Arab contingent, Sheik Ahmed Salah Jamjoon, gave a 
glowing report upon his return. "The World Anti-Communist League 
(WACL)," a Norwegian Front memo of May 1979, stated, "has 
previously been accused of being in the services of reactionary ele- 
ments and to be CIA-financed. The truth, however, is that WACL 



101 



today stands forth as a world-wide and powerful movement of orga- 
nizations that are united in the battle for the freedom of the peoples 
and the nations from both World Communism and the international 
financial-imperialism." 9 

In Asuncion there were also some new personalities from South- 
ern Europe. Bias Pinar, chief of the Spanish fascist party Fuerza 
Nueva ; was there in the company of his friend Giorgio Almirante. 
Pinar had started a fascist minileague in 1977 by forming Eurodestra ; 
an umbrella for the Fuerza Nueva ; Almirante's MSI ; and the French 
Forces Nouvelles. He was the spiritual leader of most of Spain's right- 
ist thugs. In 1977, two of his followers had murdered the five law- 
yers on Calle Atocha ; while another had shot a schoolgirl in the 
head in the belief that she was a leftist. 

Even more intriguing among the European delegations at Asun- 
cion was the presence of Elio Massagrande. As Pino Rauti's deputy 
chief in Or dine Nuovo, Massagrande had ignored the 1973 ban of 
his organization by the Italian government and had gone on to leave 
his mark on France and Italy through robbery and murder. 

On August 4, 1974, the Italicus express train from Rome to Mun- 
ich was passing through a long tunnel south of Bologna when a 
bomb ripped one of its cars apart. Twelve bodies were found amid 
the twisted metal, along with forty-eight injured. An Italian magis- 
trate, Vittorio Occorsio, conducted a two-year investigation into the 
atrocity, finally bringing charges against a lieutenant within Massa- 
grande's Ordine Nuovo. 

Apparently Occorsio also uncovered the links of Ordine Nuovo 
to other terrorist formations in Spain and Greece. On June 14, 1976, 
as he was driving his old Fiat sedan through the congested streets of 
Rome, Occorsio was murdered with thirteen bullets from an Ingram 
M10 machine pistol. 

After that, things got hot for Massagrande. One of Occorsio ; s 
murderers turned informant and disclosed details of the inner work- 
ings of Ordine Nuovo. Police discovered Massagrande's bank deposit 
box in Spain, containing currency and gold bars from a 1976 twenty- 
five-million-dollar bank robbery in Nice, France. It was time for 
Massagrande to run; he ran to the safety of General Stroessner ; s 
Paraguay. At the time he attended the 1979 League conference, he 

was high on Interpol's list of wanted fugitives. 

• ♦ ♦ 



10Z 



The 1979 conference was the high point of Roger Pearson's in- 
volvement with the League. He had helped introduce the European 
neo-Nazis to their Latin American counterparts, forging links that 
would be helpful in the immediate future. While neither Pearson nor 
the World Anti-Communist League can take total "credit" for the 
succession of "dirty wars" that were to haunt Central America in 
the following years ; the Asuncion League conference certainly played 
a vital role. After 1979, Latin American rightists could increasingly 
turn to other conduits for money ; arms and technical expertise in 
unconventional warfare ; and political backing for death squad oper- 
ations against their opposition. 

But Roger Pearson would not be there to see it. The Asians finally 
became alarmed at the overt extremism of his associates ; and the 
less-radical European chapters were ready to leave the League en 
masse; Pearson's stardom rapidly faded after the Asuncion confer- 
ence. At an executive board meeting in 1980 ; he was asked to resign. 

He was to leave one last fleeting legacy ; however, by passing the 
American leadership mantle on to Elmore D. Greaves. Greaves was 
the sort of original thinker and man of action that Pearson could 
admire; as the organizer of the segregationist Citizens Council of 
Mississippi in the 1960s ; Greaves had once urged that state to secede 
from the Union. 

Today ; having twice failed to unite the European ultra-right ; and 
with his World Anti-Communist League adventure behind him, 
Roger Pearson has returned to conservative respectability. This trans- 
formation has been substantially aided by the mainstream academics 
and politicians who publish articles in his magazines. He still oper- 
ates the Council on American Affairs and is an officer of a new outfit, 
University Professors for Academic Order, based in Corvallis, Ore- 
gon. 

Pearson has a decidedly different version of his involvement with 
the League. In an interview with one of the authors, he claimed he 
left the League because it was becoming anti-Semitic and "I want to 
get away from those people." 

The problem was exacerbated by the South American group. They 
were anti-communists, but also believed the communists were 
Jews. . . . These Latins tried to swing all of WACL over to their side. 
They put out some books and there was some truth in what they 



105 



wrote— everyone knows some communists have been Jews— but ridic- 
ulous, really, saying all communists are Jewish. 

As for the story of his helping Josef "Angel of Death" Mengele 
escape, Pearson denied even having heard the name, but in the next 
breath he said of his visit to Paraguay in 1979, "When I was there, 
I heard a couple of people had been nosing around for him and their 
bodies had been fished out of the river." 10 

I hope that your efforts continue to receive broad interest and support 
and wish you every success in your future endeavors. 

Sincerely, Ronald Reagan 



NINE 



Victory over communism first. World peace second. 

Juattita Castro, 

1970 WACL conference 

At the 1979 World Anti-Communist League conference in 
Asunci6n ; the international ultra-right finally completed its global 
journey. Through the League, all the disparate elements from every 
corner of the earth were united, joined for the stated purpose of 
opposing Marxism in all its forms. While they differed on the form 
of the threat facing them, they all profited from the association. 

For many members of the League, its conferences were nothing 
more than junkets, a way to escape the heat of Manila or the rainy 
season in Ghana, to stay in a luxurious hotel and to get their names 
mentioned in the local paper upon returning. But for others, partici- 
pation in the League had tangible benefits. Above all else, by 1979 
the League had become a means by which governments or private 
groups could maintain links or coordinate actions with others that ; 
for political or ideological reasons, could not be maintained or coor- 
dinated in an official, public capacity. 

By 1979 ; at least eight major power groups could be identified 
within the World Anti-Communist League. Some were the tradi- 
tional leaders who had formed the League to begin with, but new 
power blocs had also emerged. 



105 



TAIWAN 

By the late 1 970s, as one nation after another dropped recognition 
of the Republic of China on Taiwan in favor of the People's Republic 
of China on the mainland, the members of the Kuomintang found 
themselves with a vastly diminished circle of friends. They could no 
longer pick and choose their allies; they had to accept whoever would 
accept them. And they accepted them in the apartheid regimes of 
South Africa and Rhodesia, in the right-wing dictatorships of Latin 
America, and in the Nazi collaborator bands of Western Europe and 
the United States. 

The World Anti-Communist League had become one of the last 
major instruments of foreign policy for the Kuomintang, and they 
could not afford to let it languish. For them, the stated aim of the 
League— international anti-communism— had quite suddenly become 
secondary to the greater cause of simply retaining relations with 
whatever nations or groups they could. 

KOREA 

Although it was a military dictatorship at least as repressive as 
that of Taiwan, South Korea did not share Taiwan's international 
loss of diplomatic recognition. What it did have by 1979 was a 
faltering economy in a world that no longer saw it as an indispen- 
sable bastion against communism. Although the League served as an 
excellent podium for the regime to continue its denunciation of North 
Korean intrigues, another benefit, a commercial one, had emerged. 

Through relationships struck at League conferences, South Korea 
became one of the principal arms suppliers to South and Central 
America. The man who led this campaign was retired South Korean 
Air Force Colonel Shin Chan. Shin Chan, who attended several 
League conferences, was also the executive director of the South Ko- 
rean Association for Promotion of War Industry. 

THE UNIFICATION CHURCH 

Theoretically, the Unification Church left the League in 1975 
when the Reverend Sun Myung Moon denounced it as a "fascist" 
organization. Nevertheless, the Japanese Unification Church, the 
Church's largest and most powerful branch, continued to be the Jap- 
anese World Anti-Communist League chapter, and the Church and 



106 



the League cooperated in many joint operations throughout the 
world. 

Just as Reverend Moon's operations were myriad, so, too, were 
the payoffs he received from his involvement in the League. His 
organization apparently has three major functions: as a church, as a 
money laundry, and as an agent for the South Korean government. 
It was able to facilitate each of these activities through its League 
affiliation. 

Relationships nurtured with right-wing Latin Americans in the 
League led to acceptance of the Church's political and propaganda 
operations throughout Latin America. From the theological-political 
standpoint Latin America is the Moonies' "Promised Land"; the 
more the Latin right denounces Catholicism as being riddled with 
Marxism, the more attractive the nationalistic anti-communist dogma 
of the Unification Church appears to be. No doubt Moon dreams 
about the influence— and money— that would come from millions of 
Latin Americans turning their backs on Catholicism in favor of Uni- 
ficationism. 

As an international money laundry, through the World Anti- 
Communist League and its own operations, the Church tapped into 
the capital flight havens of Latin America. Escaping the scrutiny of 
American and European investigators, the Church could now funnel 
money into banks in Honduras, Uruguay, and Brazil, where official 
oversight was lax or nonexistent. 

In pursuit of its function as an agent of influence for the South 
Korean government the Church has done well in Latin America. 
Between 1977 and 1979 the Church quietly channeled over a 
hundred million dollars into the Uruguayan economy; in 1980, the 
Uruguayan government signed a huge arms deal with South Korea, 
part of which went to Tong-il Armaments Company, owned and 
operated by the Unification Church. 

SOUTH AFRICA AND RHODESIA 

As did Taiwan, South Africa and Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) saw 
the number of their international allies shrink in the 1 970s as a result 
of their racist apartheid policies. One means of maintaining those ties 
that did remain, and hopefully of establishing new ones, was the 
League. This scheme operated on several different levels, from con- 
tinuing links to racist groups in the United States and Western Eu- 



107 



rope to making arms deals with Latin American governments 
represented within the League. The League also gave the South Af- 
ricans and Rhodesians an introduction to potential supporters in the 
American New Right and in the Unification Church.* 

LATIN AMERICA 

Probably the most tangible— and deadly— advantages of League in- 
volvement were gained by its South and Central American chapters. 
Through the League ; ultra-rightists from "Southern Cone" nations 
like Paraguay and Argentina were able to link up with their brethren 
in the Central American countries of Guatemala ; Honduras ; and El 
Salvador. Since the membership of these chapters was often drawn 
from government officials ; resolutions agreed upon at League confer- 
ences—mutual cooperation and the sharing of information on "sub- 
versive" labor leaders ; academics ; and liberal priests— could be put 
into practice. League participation also meant that Latin governments 
were given the opportunity to train their counterinsurgency forces 
and military intelligence officers in one of the world's most efficient 
schools ; the Political Warfare Cadres Academy in Taiwan. 

MEXICO 

To the Tecos ; the League gave not only access to other anti-Semite 
and anti- Vatican circles throughout the world but also the prestige 
to pursue their ambition of taking over the continent's autonomous 
universities. With their status in the League and with their control 
of the World Youth Anti-Communist League ; the Tecos were able 
to embark on this program in a concerted way. Their scheme seems 
to have partially succeeded; in 1985 ; Dr. Luis Garibay Gutierrez ; the 
head of the Tecos' Autonomous University of Guadalajara ; was 
named president of the International Association of University Presi- 
dents. 



*It has been reported that the Church's newspaper in Washington, D.C., The 
Washington i\mts, has been subsidized by the South African government to the 
nmounl of $9()(),()()() annually. 



108 



NAZIS 

For both the Nazi collaborators of World War II and their modern- 
day torchbearers throughout Europe and the United States, the 
League was an avenue of contact with kindred spirits in Latin 
America, southern Africa, and Australia. Through acquaintances 
made at League conferences, a British Nazi might be invited to attend 
a fraternal Swedish conclave; an article by an Australian neo-Nazi 
might be reprinted in a similar publication in Germany; or a former 
Belgian SS officer might come to the United States as a speaker at a 
Nazi rally. It could also mean that an impoverished fascist cell in 
Norway could come to the attention of philanthropic Arab sheiks. 

For the "historical" Nazis— the Iron Guard and the Ustasha— 
League conferences were a cover under which various branches of 
the same organization could reunite in relative safety to talk about 
old times and plan joint actions for the future. On his own, it might 
have been difficult for a wanted war criminal like Stejpan Hefer to 
have entered the United States to meet with his Ustasha comrades 
there; under the auspices of the World Anti-Communist League, it 
was far less likely that he would come to the attention of an obser- 
vant immigration official. 

ARABS 

By 1979, one of the most intriguing aspects of the League was its 
ability to embrace opposing factions simultaneously, proving the ad- 
age of politics making strange bedfellows. 

As two nations isolated from most others and confronted with 
implacable enemies close to their borders, Taiwan and Israel have 
long had close diplomatic relations. Yet this did not prevent Taiwan 
either from inducting former Nazis into the World Anti-Communist 
League, or from accepting en masse a group of militantly anti-Israel 
Arabs at a special League executive session in 1978. 

Starting with the 1979 League conference, militant Arabs, under 
the banner of the Middle East Security Council, became a major force 
and financial backer of the League. Their chief "anti" was not com- 
munism but Israel. This explains why government officials from 
Arab nations that are closely allied with the Soviet Union, such as 
Syria, have found a platform in the World Anti-Communist League. 

It is quite easy to see the Arabs' interest in the League. Here in 
one fell swoop they tapped into bitter enemies of Israel in the United 



109 



States, Latin America, and Europe. Certainly some of their new allies 
had different reasons for their anti-Israeli stance— they hated Israel 
because they hated Jews— but the result was the same: dedicated and 
unwavering enemies of the "Zionist state." With membership in the 
League, the Arabs could now play both sides of the fence, subsidizing 
the far left for its pro-Palestinian sentiments and bankrolling the far 
right for its anti-Israel ones. 

By 1979, the World Anti-Communist League had become a pow- 
erful federation spanning six continents and consisting of national 
chapters from some ninety nations. Its very growth was problematic; 
in light of their different reasons for joining the League, it stood to 
reason that there would be some very great political rifts among the 
various chapters. The supposed communist threat facing, for exam- 
ple, the Southeast Asian nation of Malaysia was far different from 
that facing the West African nation of Liberia. For the exiled Viet- 
namese, the chief enemy was the People's Republic of China, while 
for the Ukrainians it was the ethnic Russians. In Indonesia, the com- 
munist threat was personified by the resident Chinese community at 
large, chief victims of a horrible "anti-communist" pogrom in the 
1960s. This racial focus could hardly have found favor with the 
Kuomintang in Taiwan, who were, after all, ethnic Chinese. In South 
Africa, the "communist threat" was anti-apartheid blacks; in Sri 
Lanka it was the Tamils; in Guatemala, the liberal clergy. In short, 
what League chapters defined as the enemy varied wildly. 

But the League did have some unifying beliefs. What all League 
members had in common by 1979 was their conviction that the 
United States, under the Carter Administration, was part of the prob- 
lems they faced. Here again their rhetoric ranged widely, some only 
feeling Carter was hopelessly naive, others claiming he was being 
duped by communists, others accusing him of being an outright trai- 
tor and a tool of communism. Whatever their individual grievances, 
one of the major adhesives holding the entire World Anti-Commu- 
nist League together in 1979 was a burning resentment of the Ameri- 
can president. 

Indeed, in three years as president, Carter had managed to enrage 
virtually ever chapter of the League. His human rights stand and 
selective trade embargoes on offending nations had not gone over 
well with Latin American rightists. His recognition of the People's 



110 



Republic of China was seen by the Kuomintang in Taiwan as the 
ultimate betrayal. His plans for an American troop withdrawal from 
South Korea had caused a panic there. His call for the dismantling 
of apartheid in South Africa and Rhodesia had made him bitter ene- 
mies among those nation's white rulers. His support of Israel drew 
the wrath of the Arabs. Domestically, his establishment of the Office 
of Special Investigations in the Justice Department, empowered to 
investigate and prosecute suspected Nazi war criminals living in the 
United States, had sent tremors through the Eastern Nazi collaborator 
contingents. 

League attacks on Jimmy Carter were relentless; his name became 
something of an epithet. At the 1978 League conference in Wash- 
ington, he was attacked for everything from sanctioning the Sandi- 
nistas' fight against the Nicaraguan dictator Anastasio Somoza to 
causing unrest in South Korea; at the 1977 Belgrade conference, he 
was attacked for failing to take up the cause of the captive nations. 

"I accuse the Carter Administration/' Guatemalan Vice-President 
Mario Sandoval Alarcon thundered at the League conference in 
Washington in 1978 (he had taken the speaker's podium after Sen- 
ator James McClure of Idaho), "of meddling and intervening in the 
internal affairs of other nations, especially in Latin American coun- 
tries. ... I accuse the Inter- American Commission on Human Rights 
[used as a foreign policy instrument of Carter] of being a Marxist 
instrument that has used the cause of human rights as a tool for 
slander aimed at the countries that refuse to accept compromises with 
Marxism. . . . May God save humanity and may He forgive those 
responsible for such a catastrophe. We, the free men here today, 
accuse them of treason against the human race." 1 

On their own turf, the Carter-haters could be even more direct. 
Commenting on the 1978 conference and on the upcoming one in 
Asuncion, the Paraguayan newspaper Hoy issued a warning to Carter 
and his ambassador in Paraguay, Robert White: 

If the peanut farmer from Georgia has the diplomatic strings to exer- 
cise pressure, meddle in the internal affairs of other countries and send 
obdurate envoys [White], then it is necessary to paraphrase the following 
saying: "The white horse did not understand the offensive lion." 2 

Undeterred, Ambassador White, whom Hoy had characterized as 
"a Bostonian with Marxist feelings," forced an invitation to the 1979 



111 

conference from President Alfredo Stroessner. One speaker after an- 
other, he recalls ; railed against "Carter-Communism." 

The League ; s loathing of Carter was actually only the culmination 
of resentment that had built up against the United States for many 
years. In fact, one of the common threads running through most 
chapters of the World Anti-Communist League was the belief that, 
at the very least ; the United States had consistently failed to pursue 
options open to it in the anti-communist struggle. Others were con- 
vinced that since the American government had "sold out" long ago ; 
that government was now part of the problem ; a sentiment best 
illustrated by the CAL resolution introduced at the 1974 conference 
seeking the overthrow of the American government and its replace- 
ment with a military junta. 

This disgruntlement existed for different reasons in every region 
from which League membership was drawn. In some cases ; it ex- 
tended back forty years: The Romanian Iron Guard and other East- 
ern European fascists charged that the United States had joined the 
wrong side in World War II, that it should have joined Germany in 
its fight against the communist Soviet Union. The Croatian Ustashi 
were still smarting over the British and American refusal to collab- 
orate with them in 1945 in fighting Tito's partisans. "The great 
Western powers," Stejpan Hefer charged in 1970, "preferred to fight 
against the idea of nationalism because of their own selfish reasons." 3 

The Asian League chapters attacked American "timidity" in Asia, 
dating back to Korea in the 1950s and continuing up to Indochina 
in the 1970s. The Latin Americans and the Cuban exiles had spent 
nearly two decades blasting successive administrations for coexisting 
with Fidel Castro and for cutting off aid to right-wing governments 
just because they violated human rights. 

The unjust condemnation by free world liberals, particularly those in 
the U.S.A., of communist-threatened countries like Argentina and 
Chile under the pretext of "human rights" should be exposed as serv- 
ing Communist purposes and preventing economic and military help 
going to these countries. 4 

Then there were, of course, the American and Western European 
neo-Nazis, who were convinced that the United States was in the 
pocket of the Zionists, as close relations to Israel and the prominence 
of American Jews clearly attested. 



111 



The League chapters also shared a number of other regional ene- 
mies. For the neo-Nazis, Latin Americans, and Arabs, the Jews, 
through their "control" of international finance, were subsidizing the 
spread of communism through Zionism. For European and American 
racists, the diplomatic pressures against the white ruling minorities 
in Rhodesia and South Africa were covers for eventual communist 
black rule. And all the League chapters shared a concern over the 
"clear signs" of Marxist infiltration into the Catholic Church in Latin 
America. 

The anti-Carter and anti-American sentiments of the World Anti- 
Communist League are actually only symptomatic of an even greater 
shared belief: that traditional Western institutions and values cannot 
combat the Marxist threat. Communism can only be countered by 
strong, resolute leadership, without the shortcomings or vacillations 
displayed by the United States or Western Europe. "The fact that 
the West is, today, in a sad condition," Horia Sima wrote to his Iron 
Guardists in 1 977, "is due to the lack of great men of State, and of 
a political elite, able to understand its great responsibility." 5 

In order to win the international struggle, "anti-communists have 
to be as cruel as the communists" (Taiwan), "red terror has to be 
fought with black terror" (Italy), "against the red guerrilla, the white 
guerrilla" (Mexico). Democracy, in the eyes of the League, is so mor- 
ally bankrupt and/or infiltrated that it is unable to lead this struggle. 
In fact, democracy has become the ultimate tool of subversion em- 
ployed by the communists and their "fifth columnists," the Zionists. 
"Personally, I am convinced that Freemasonery, Judaism and Com- 
munism act together to subjugate the world," Hernan Landivar Flores 
of the Bolivian League chapter said in 1974. "From this indisputable 
truth arises my deep distrust of the so-called democracy through 
which you act and which is no other than the ante-room to immo- 
rality and Communism." 6 

This repudiation of democracy is the single most broadly accepted 
tenet— and the lasting bond— of the World Anti-Communist League. 
Whether as willing accomplices or not, in the eyes of the League it 
is Western democracies that have steadily bartered away the world 
to the communists. For them, democracy has been compromised, is 
decaying, and is unable to fight back. "The saddest aspect," Giorgio 
Almirante, leader of Italy's fascist MSI, said about that nation's coun- 



H3 



terterror program, "is the total impotence of the State, which has 
demonstrated to lack both the capacity and will to adopt suitable 
measures to combat terrorism. ... It can be stated with certitude that 
at this time Italy possesses neither security nor intelligence services 
worthy of that name." 7 

Given the failure of democracy, what is needed, in the view of 
League members, is strong nationalist regimes such as the Kuomin- 
tang in Taiwan or that of General Pinochet in Chile. In the "correct" 
nations, one doesn't find the hobbling presence of working parlia- 
ments or troublesome human rights activists. These regimes don't 
show timidity in the face of the Marxist threat, nor do they lack the 
resolve to engage in the same brutal tactics their enemies employ. 

Since they cannot count on the democracies of Western Europe 
and the United States, League members have appealed to the world's 
remaining far-right governments while also urging the formation of 
private groups to carry out the struggle independently. At least as 
early as 1965, the Asian People's Anti-Communist League had en- 
dorsed the formation of an "international brigade of civic-action vol- 
unteers" to help out in South Vietnam. The brigade, to be funded 
by the League, would of course be protected by "appropriate security 
forces." 8 

"As I suggested two years ago," Stejpan Hefer wrote in 1970, 
"one should try to form and prepare in any free state, under the 
protection of NATO, armed units of individual peoples from among 
the members of their national liberation movements. At the outbreak 
of rebellions and uprisings in the Communist-occupied countries these 
units would have the task at the favourable moment to take over 
the initiative and help their peoples to liquidate tyrannic Communist 
governments." 9 

It might seem ironic that while the ultra-right in the World Anti- 
Communist League looks upon democracy with disgust, they fre- 
quently voice almost a begrudging respect of their leftist opposition. 
They study and copy their enemy's methods and train their terrorists 
in much the same manner as the communists. The Political Warfare 
Cadres Academy in Taiwan was designed— and still teaches— accord- 
ing to the Soviet model of military instruction, with its commissars 
and political officers assigned to regular army units. In El Salvador, 
security forces studied the terror tactics of the guerrillas and reem- 



114 

ployed them through "counterterror." American League members, 
after analyzing leftist programs of indoctrination, assassination, and 
sabotage, urged that anti-communists employ this same "unconven- 
tional warfare" strategy. 

There have even been instances, especially in Western Europe, of 
terrorist cells of the extreme right and left joining together in coor- 
dinated actions. The fascist Croatian Ustashi, according to terrorism 
experts, have received support in their war against socialist Yugo- 
slavia from the Soviet Union and communist Albania. Fabrizio Pan- 
zieri, an Italian terrorist belonging to the ultra-left Red Brigade, 
escaped a prison sentence for murder by using a passport furnished 
by rightist terrorists. Investigations by the West German government 
have revealed extensive ties between the Palestine Liberation Orga- 
nization and a variety of German neo-fascists. The justification for 
these strange alliances was probably best stated by Mehmet Ali Agca, 
the would-be assassin of Pope John Paul II. "I am an international 
terrorist, ready to help other terrorists everywhere. I make no dis- 
tinction between fascists and communists. My terrorism is not red 
or black; it is red and black." 10 

For this reason, it is often impossible to determine responsibility 
for a terrorist attack. A liberal politician in Guatemala might be killed 
by the right for his "Marxist taint," or he might be killed by the left 
because he remains part of the "oligarchy." A German businessman 
might be assassinated by communists for his "parasitic existence," 
or he might incur the wrath of the fascists for his role in the "Zionist- 
International Finance Conspiracy." 

Such overlapping is not as anomalous as it might appear. The first 
enemy for both political extremes is the center. Both ultra-leftists and 
ultra-rightists have the same primary objective: to polarize the coun- 
try, to implement the breakdown of the governing system, and ul- 
timately to create a situation of chaos where armed conflict will be 
between the right and the left, the center having been discredited by 
its failure to prevent it. In the interim, a victory for one side— a 
governmental collapse in Italy, the murder of an industrialist in Spain, 
the "disappearance" of a human rights activist in El Salvador— works 
for the benefit of both. 

Little wonder that terrorist after terrorist, and terrorism expert after 
terrorism expert, have agreed that the purpose of both Red and Black 



115 



terror is to destroy the open ; democratic forms of liberal government, 
and to replace them with something elitist and totalitarian. Rightist 
terror seeks "the brutal intervention of repressive forces," Leftist terror 
seeks the same, believing that only complete repression will bring a 
self-satisfied, quiet bourgeoisie to a flash point, a revolutionary "critical 
mass." 11 

If this is the objective of the World Anti-Communist League, then 
it goes a long way toward explaining the strange alliances it has 
formed. It is this very pursuit of international polarization and its 
ability to embrace openly leftist elements in an anti-communist cause 
that have led many to speculate about the League's true nature. Some 
have even suggested a secret sponsorship of the League by the Soviet 
Union or other communist governments, employing it as the ulti- 
mate agent provocateur. 

The idea may not be as absurd as it first sounds. The open antip- 
athy—and, in some cases, hatred— for the United States and Western 
democracy that can be found in the League are outlooks that could 
easily be manipulated by the Soviets, if they haven't been already. 

Within the League can be found Soviet-supported Arabs who in 
turn support European and South American rightists in their fight 
against U.S.-supported Israel. The current British League chapter 
pushes for the dissolution of the European Economic Community, 
certainly a proposal that would aid the Soviet Union more than the 
United States. In his Madrid lair, Horia Sima rails against Western 
European unification. 

Only a "Europe of Fatherlands" can constitute an efficacious and du- 
rable organism. Supranational organizations are unnatural because they 
violate the laws, based on history, which are confirmed through the 
existence of nations and national cultures. 12 

Then, of course, there is the intelligence advantage the Soviets 
would gain in establishing ties with groups of malcontents in vir- 
tually every nation in Western Europe, individuals who reject de- 
mocracy and who in some cases have taken up weapons to fight it. 
By infiltrating the League, the Soviets or their satellites could have 
access to the workings of counterinsurgency, "political warfare," 
"counterterror," and "unconventional warfare" programs, both offi- 
cial and private, throughout the world. 

Whatever the real or imagined communist presence in the League, 



116 



it would certainly appear that no one would be more sorry to see its 
demise than they. Despite political differences— and on paper they 
appear to be considerable— communism and fascism, as embodied in 
the World Anti-Communist League, are comrades in the war against 
democracy. 



INTRODUCTION 



Although the 1979 World Anti-Communist League confer- 
ence in Asuncion was significant in completing the global circle of 
fascism, the following year proved to be far more important. In 1980 
a new ; more action-oriented and dangerous League began to take 
shape. 

The year 1980 was a landmark for the forces of the international 
right, for in the immediate past there had been only disaster. 

The Nicaraguan dictatorship of Anastasio Somoza Debayle had 
fallen to the leftist Sandinistas while the United States had stood idly 
by. Revolutionary fervor had spread into El Salvador and had re- 
sparked the long-simmering guerrilla insurgency in Guatemala; in- 
stead of coming to their aid, the American president complained about 
those governments 7 human rights abuses. "White" Rhodesia had be- 
come "black" Zimbabwe, with the makings of a communist state. 
The pro-American despot on the Caribbean island of Grenada had 
been toppled by pro-Cuban Marxists. The Soviet Union had invaded 
Afghanistan to prop up a shaky puppet regime; the United States 
had feebly reacted by boycotting the summer Olympics. The mili- 
tary junta of Argentina had confronted a wave of leftist terrorism 
and for their trouble, Carter had imposed sanctions on them. 

In 1980, there were some rays of hope; chief among them was 
the defeat of Carter and the election of Ronald Reagan as president 
of the United States. Here was a man whom anti-communists in 
general, and the World Anti-Communist League in particular, could 
depend on, one who would bolster friendly governments and dis- 
pense with the naive human rights policies of his predecessor. 



110 



With Reagan, the picture quickly brightened. Military aid sanc- 
tions against Guatemala, Chile, and Argentina were soon lifted. There 
was increased assistance to the Afghan mujaheddin resistance forces, 
who were engaging the Soviets in a fierce and determined guerrilla 
war. Anti-Sandinista Nicaraguan "contras," organizing on the na- 
tion's borders and launching sniping attacks on the new leftist gov- 
ernment, began receiving covert CIA funds. 

Soon the League would gain an important new leader in the per- 
son of retired American Major General John K. Singlaub. As the head 
of the new American League chapter in 1981, Singlaub's outspoken 
advocacy of unconventional warfare, which he defined as "low in- 
tensity actions, such as sabotage, terrorism, assassination and guerril- 
la warfare," would dramatically change the function of the League. 

By 1980, the site of the anti-communist battlefield of the world 
had changed. Just as it had been Europe in the 1940s and Asia in the 
1960s, so now it was Central America in the 1980s. Throughout 
the region, rightist governments were besieged by revolutionary 
movements, some reportedly financed by Cuba and/or the Soviet 
Union. Leftists were assassinating prominent businessmen and gov- 
ernment officials on the streets, radicalizing labor unions, and organ- 
izing rebellion in the countryside. 

It was here that the World Anti-Communist League would make 
its stand. They had "lost" Eastern Europe, then China, then South- 
east Asia; they would not lose the Western hemisphere. 

By 1980, they had a role model for this new theater of conflict. 
In a "dirty war" that had taken the lives of an estimated nine thou- 
sand people, the Argentine government had effectively crushed the 
leftist Montonero movement in the late 1970s. Moreover, they had 
done so without any assistance from the vacillating Americans. "In 
the Argentine Republic," a 1977 government report states, "the term 
'subversive' is used as a synonym for 'terrorist/ ' n 

Operating under this official guideline, Argentine security forces 
were empowered to arrest any suspect at will. The definition of what 
constituted subversive activity was extremely broad; the same gov- 
ernment report states that a clear sign of potential terrorism is the 
lobbying of university students for student cafeterias. 

The government's victims were almost invariably held incom- 
municado, tortured, and then executed. Bodies were dumped into the 



1Z1 



Rio de la Plata from helicopters, buried in secret cemeteries, or thrown 
out onto roadsides. All institutions— the courts, schools, labor unions, 
even churches— were seen as likely sources for subversion; they were 
systematically infiltrated, and anyone found to have "subversive 
tendencies" quickly "disappeared." By 1980, leftist terrorism in Ar- 
gentina had practically ceased to exist. 

This vicious form of warfare was now ready for export to other 
Latin American regimes that felt similarly threatened. A primary 
vehicle for this export operation was the World Anti-Communist 
League. At a 1980 League conclave, an agreement was made in which 
Argentine counterterror and torture specialists would be dispatched 
to El Salvador to assist in the anti-communist struggle there. 

In the battle for Latin America, the World Anti-Communist 
League did not relegate itself to a mere intermediary role. Four 
major elements within the League— the Taiwanese, the Unification 
Church, the Latin American Anti-Communist Confederation 
(CAL), and the American New Right— actively turned their atten- 
tion to the region. Collectively, they initiated all forms of warfare 
necessary to fight communism— organizational, political, uncon- 
ventional, even theological. They operated throughout the conti- 
nent, financing, training, supplying, preaching. They would be an 
unseen and unaccountable force behind the scenes: the force "Lobo" 
called the White Hand. 



TEN 



The more democratic a society is, the more serious the col- 
lapse of its traditional value system appears to be. This shows 
that democracy is failing to provide solutions to the problems 
currently facing our societies and the world 

<Zht Reverend Sun Myung Moon 
December 1983 

The united states Congressional "Koreagate" hearings in 
1976-78 focused on the South Korean government's campaign of 
influence-peddling by giving American congressmen and senators 
gifts, all-expense-paid trips, and even bribes. 

It was not only the Korean government that was involved in the 
scheme; the Kuomintang government of Chiang Kai-shek in Taiwan 
had also been engaged in a quieter and more subtle public relations 
offensive for years. For both countries, the World Anti-Communist 
League had acted as an important instrument in establishing and 
maintaining close ties with influential American anti-communists, 
although it was an instrument that wasn ; t itself closely scrutinized 
by Congress. Prominent Americans were invited to attend its con- 
ferences; their expenses were picked up by the League and, by exten- 
sion, by the Korean and Taiwanese governments. 

"In the last two years," New York Times reporter Richard Lyons 
wrote in November 1976, "at least 64 senators and representatives 
have visited Seoul. . . . The costs of many of these excursions have 
been met, wholly or in part, by such groups as the Pacific Cultural 



123 

Foundation, the World Anti-Communist League and the Korea- 
United States Economic Council." 

The Taiwanese and Koreans spared no expense with their Ameri- 
can visitors at League functions. They were feted at banquets, pa- 
raded before American-flag-waving schoolchildren, given awards, and 
put up in lavish hotel suites. 

In 1970, for example, Richard Walker, a conservative political 
science professor at the University of South Carolina, was contacted 
by Sung il Cho, a young Korean colonel with KCIA affiliations. 
Walker was invited to go to Korea to advise and observe the upcom- 
ing WACL conference in Japan, all expenses paid. The money came 
from a secret account in the Korean Embassy in Washington, D.C. 
While there may have been no impropriety involved since the pro- 
fessor was not an American official, it is interesting to note that 
Richard Walker is presently the American ambassador to Korea. 

In the Koreagate investigations, Representative Donald Fraser's 
House Subcommittee on International Organizations exposed the ties 
between the Unification Church and the Korean CIA and concluded 
that the Church often acted as a virtual foreign policy extension of 
the Korean government. Moon, with his loyal cadres and financial 
resources, was able to initiate operations that the Park regime could 
never have attempted. One such example was the "young ladies" 
campaign. 

"If you fulfill your mission in America," Moon told his disciples, 
"you can restore America and at the same time help Korea to be 
restored. So now we have to make bases in fifty states. We also have 
to restore Senators. So Master will assign three young ladies to each 
Senator. The Senators are archangels, so restoration will have to be 
done through Eve. So we need 300 young ladies. To restore the 
Senators you must first make the aides your friends, particularly sec- 
retaries. ... By doing this you can save America." 

This Moonie infiltration program was put into effect in the mid- 
1970s. The female disciples were "directed to 'hang around' the 
offices and volunteer to take on extra work. When the workload be- 
came especially heavy, their offers would be accepted. Employment 
would then follow, either with the office or through a well-placed 
recommendation. The favored offices, of course, would be those who 



124 



dealt in legislation that could touch Moon ; either in an investigatory 
or regulatory way. The objects would be leaks ; and influence." 1 

Although the "young ladies" operation never achieved the level 
Moon had hoped for, his followers were able to ingratiate themselves 
into several congressional staffs, including those of House Speaker 
Carl Albert (D- Arkansas), Les AuCoin (D-Oregon) ; and John Ham- 
merschmidt (R-Arkansas). 

As these revelations and those of other Moonie operations were 
disclosed, the Unification Church went on the offensive. Bo Hi Pak, 
Moon's chief lieutenant, made tearful appearances before the sub- 
committee both to defend the Church and to attack its chairman, 
Donald Fraser. 

"I cannot help but believe," he charged, "that you are being used 
as an instrument of the devil. Yes, 'instrument of the devil/ I said it. 
Who else would want to destroy a man of God?" 

In the end, the Church exacted its revenge on the chairman. With 
the aid of an ultra-right "journalist," they charged that the liberal 
Fraser was an agent of the KGB, and he was narrowly defeated in 
the Minnesota senatorial contest in 1978. Afterward, the Moonies 
could crow, "Mr. Fraser's defeat was due to more than political for- 
tune. It was an act of God." 2 

As the world has seen, the Reverend Sun Myung Moon has not 
disappeared from the scene, both as a result of his involvement with 
the Japanese yakuza warlords and of the Koreagate revelations. He 
remained active even while he was behind bars for income tax eva- 
sion in a New York penitentiary in 1984 and 1985. His disciples are 
still being trained in government-sponsored "anti-communist training 
centers" scattered throughout South Korea. His advisers, chief among 
them Bo Hi Pak, the former Korean CIA agent, have spread his 
empire throughout Asia, Europe, and the Americas by funneling 
money through corporations and organizations that are supposedly 
independent of the Church. 

One group from which the Church has publicly disassociated itself 
is the World Anti-Communist League; in 1975, Moon announced 
that he would no longer be associated with this "fascist" organiza- 
tion. His umbrage is perhaps just so much more of his "Heavenly 
Deception." 

In his quest for a global anti-communist movement that he could 



U5 



use for his own financial and political ends and that would legitimize 
his claim of being the world's new Messiah, Moon apparently had 
seen the League as a ready-made outfit to take over, saving him the 
bother and expense of creating one independently. It seems that this 
bid for power had been aborted, giving rise to his angry outburst and 
"withdrawal" in 1975. 

But the Church is actually still very much a part of the League. 
Even after Moon's denunciation, it was represented at League con- 
ferences by Paul Werner, the head of the Church in West Germany. 
The Japanese League chapter is still controlled by Shokyo Rengo, the 
political arm of the Unification Church in that nation. The head of 
Japanese delegations to the World Anti-Communist League and one 
member of its executive board is Osami Kuboki, head of Japan's 
Unification Church, one of Yoshio Kodama's yakuza lieutenants, and 
one of the original Shokyo Rengo founders of 1967. 

The Moon-controlled Japanese League chapter has kept close to 
its yakuza origins. When Yoshikazu Soejima, a trusted Church lieu- 
tenant and editor of its newspaper in Japan, Sekai Nipyo ("World 
Daily News"), resisted overt Church takeover in 1983, Shokyo 
Rengo was called in. 

On the first of October, about 100 people— including about 30 in 
special karate training groups— barged into the paper's office. . . . They 
broke into desks, stole papers and beat up some of the employees. . . . 
On June 2 of this year [1984], Soejima was attacked outside his home 
in Tokyo and stabbed repeatedly, according to police reports. When 
the attack occurred, he was preparing an article critical of Moon. 3 

One means by which the Church continues its involvement with 
the League is its new political arm, the Confederation of Associations 
for the Unity of the Societies of America (CAUSA). 4 Founded in 
1980 by Bo Hi Pak and Kim Sang In, the former Korean CIA station 
chief in Mexico City, CAUSA's executive director was Warren Rich- 
ardson, formerly the general counsel to the historical revisionist and 
anti-Semitic Liberty Lobby. In 1981, CAUSA and the Paraguayan 
chapter of the League held a joint anti-communist seminar in Asun- 
ci6n. 

In addition to its CAUSA operations, the Unification Church pur- 
sues a public relations offensive through the International Conference 
for the Unity of the Sciences, the World Media Conference, and a 



1Z6 



host of other front groups. According to The Washington Tribune, the 
Church was operating over a hundred such fronts in 1982. 

Clearly, the Unification Church of the Reverend Sun Myung 
Moon remains very active in spreading its brand of anti-communism, 
theological patriotism, and fealty to the "Heavenly Father." Ever 
since its vocal defense of President Nixon during Watergate, it has 
gained respectability through its alliances with conservative Ameri- 
can professors, journalists, policymakers, and former intelligence 
agents. Most disquieting is the Church's close and extensive ties with 
American New Right leaders, present and former high-ranking mili- 
tary officers, and officials of the Reagan Administration. 

The U.S. Global Strategy Council, an organization that former 
CIA Deputy Director Ray Cline helped create, purports to advise the 
Reagan Administration on foreign policy matters. On the council is 
Arnaud de Borchgrave, a fellow senior associate with Cline at the 
Georgetown Center for Strategic and International Studies and editor 
of the Moon-owned Washington Times. The council's executive direc- 
tor is retired General E. David Woellner, president of CAUSA World 
Services. 5 

The retired head of the Defense Intelligence Agency, Major Gen- 
eral Daniel O. Graham, is on CAUSA USA's board of directors. 
Lynn Bouchey, president of the Council for Inter- American Security, 
organized two CAUSA conferences. Joseph Churba, former senior 
policy adviser to the Arms Control and Disarmament Agency and 
director of the Center for International Security, spoke at a CAUSA 
symposium in January 1985. Retired Lieutenant General Gordon 
Sumner, former chairman of the Inter-American Defense Board, was 
the cochairman of a conference of the International Security Council, 
a CAUSA project, in Paris in February 1985. General George Keegan, 
former chief of Air Force Intelligence, paneled a CAUSA seminar in 
September 1984. Miles Costick, president of the Institute on Strategic 
Trade; Terry Dolan, executive director of the National Conservative 
Political Action Committee (NCPAC); and Jay Parker, president of 
the Lincoln Institute and head of the NCPAC-funded Blacks for Rea- 
gan 1984— all have attended CAUSA conferences. 

The Church also conducts its elaborate public relations campaign 
with New Right newspapers and magazines. Donald Holdgriewe, 
associate editor of the Moonie Rising Tide, is also the managing editor 
of The Washington Inquirer, the weekly of the conservative Council for 



1Z7 



the Defense of Freedom. The communications director for Reed Ir- 
vine's Accuracy in Media, Bernard Yoh ; is a regular contributor to 
Rising Tide and a strong defender of both Moon and the South Korean 
regime. 

This public relations campaign got a tremendous boost when the 
Church launched The Washington Times in 1982. With endorsements 
from the Moral Majority's Jerry Falwell, and Senators John East (R- 
North Carolina), Paul Laxalt (R-Nevada), Jesse Helms (R-North 
Carolina), and Orrin Hatch (R-Utah), Bo Hi Pak, Moon's righthand 
man and publisher of the Times, was able to line up an impressive 
array of conservatives, former intelligence operatives, and Reagan 
insiders to work for this "alternative" newspaper. Proof of the mar- 
riage of the Moonies with the New Right and the Reagan Adminis- 
tration requires nothing more than examining the Times masthead. 

Roger Fontaine, formerly a Latin American specialist on the Na- 
tional Security Council, now works for The Washington Times, as does 
Jeremiah O'Leary, former National Security Adviser William Clark's 
special assistant. The list also includes John McLowery, an unsuc- 
cessful senatorial candidate from Vermont who served on Reagan's 
transition team; and Cord Meyer, a former top CIA official spe- 
cializing in clandestine operations. 

The newspaper firmly supports the Reagan Administration in 
practically all issues, while also producing "puff pieces" on the South 
Korean government. What the Times has come to resemble in its four 
years of operation is the closest thing to a government-sponsored 
newspaper the United States has seen in modern times. 

One question that all journalists and investigators studying the 
Unification Church eventually ask themselves is where the money 
comes from. It is a question that is extremely difficult to answer. 

What is known is that the Unification Church is operating com- 
mercial fishing fleets at massive losses throughout the United States. 
It lost an estimated $150,000 in the first two years of its publication 
of The Washington Times and many millions more through its New 
York-based The News World, the Spanish-language Noticias del Mundo, 
and The Middle Last Times in Cyprus. 

At the same time, its membership has declined dramatically. Al- 
though the Church claims 500,000 Korean, 300,000 Japanese, and 
30,000 American followers, most independent observers place the 



1Z8 



figures at 15,000, 8,000 and 4,000, respectively. The Washington Times 
once claimed to have a circulation of 126,000; actual circulation hov- 
ers around 70,000. This figure was independently verified only in 
April 1985; until then, the Times had repeatedly canceled outside au- 
diting, a process that sets advertising rates and that most newspapers 
initiate regularly. 

And yet the Church has quietly channeled over $100,000,000 into 
the South American nation of Uruguay, buying up its biggest hotel, 
its third-largest newspaper, and a printing company, and depositing 
at least $50,000,000 in one of its banks. It has also underwritten 
half-million-dollar Asian junkets for American journalists (among 
them Reed Irvine, chairman of Accuracy in Media, and William 
Rusher, publisher of National Review) through the World Media Con- 
ference and has picked up the costs for international meetings of 
CAUSA and the International Conference of the Unity of the Sci- 
ences. 

It also spends $1,500,000 a year on a conservative Washington 
think tank; has sunk $15,000,000 into national distribution for the 
unsuccessful Washington Times; has given a half -million dollars to the 
National Conservative Political Action Committee (NCPAC); and 
still has money left over to scour northern Virginia for a suitable 
location to build a new radio station. 

According to Mike Murphy, a former NCPAC official who was 
hired by Bo Hi Pak to advise on that particular project, "We drove 
all over northern Virginia in limousines looking at empty lots on 
high ground. When I asked them how soon they were thinking of 
starting [the radio station], one of them opened up a suitcase and 
smiled. It was full of dollars." 6 

It is clear that the Unification Church is applying its "Heavenly 
Deception" dogma— that lying is necessary when doing God's work 
and that truth is what Moon, as the son of God, says it is— to its 
financial matters. For a church of dwindling congregation and of 
annual profits from its industrial holdings in Korea estimated at con- 
siderably less than $10,000,000, to lose $150,000,000 on a news- 
paper in the United States, to operate unprofitable fishing fleets in 
Massachusetts and Louisiana, to spend untold millions for confer- 
ences throughout the world, and simultaneously to deposit 
$100,000,000 into a South American country, leaves a financial dis- 



1Z9 



crepancy that cannot easily be filled by the earnings of pallid disciples 
selling flowers in airports, however fervent they may be. 

Two former high officials of the Unification Church in Japan have 
disclosed that as much as $800,000,000 was funneled into the United 
States from Japan over a nine-year period, often by disciples carrying 
cash in their luggage. They attribute this enormous cash flow to the 
success of Happy World Inc., a Church subsidiary in Japan that mar- 
kets religious icons; yet it seems doubtful that such an amount could 
be generated through the selling of miniature pagodas and marble 
vases. 

Suspicions about the origin of some of the money run a wide 
gamut; some Moonie-watchers even believe that some of the busi- 
ness enterprises are actually covers for drug-trafficking. 7 Others feel 
that, despite the disclosures of Koreagate, the Church has simply 
continued to do the Korean government's international bidding and 
is receiving official funds to do so. Perhaps the most realistic hypoth- 
esis, put forth by a former high official of the South Korean govern- 
ment, is that much of the money is "flight capital" from wealthy 
Koreans and the same Japanese racketeers, Sasakawa and Kodama, 
that Moon formed an alliance with in the 1960s. 

Whatever the origin of its money, the Reverend Moon's Church, 
with its connections into the Reagan Administration, the American 
New Right, and the global anti-communist movement, remains a 
powerful and ominous force on the world scene. Its impact can per- 
haps best be seen in CAUSA's operations in Latin America. 

With offices throughout the region, CAUSA preaches its brand of 
active anti-communism to the masses and helps "freedom fighters" 
with basic supplies, cash, and emergency relief. This has resulted in 
the somewhat jarring sight, witnessed by one of the authors, of seeing 
gun-toting guerrillas in Honduras clad in red CAUSA T-shirts. 

In this effort, the Church often works jointly with various chap- 
ters of the World Anti-Communist League, reflecting the new em- 
phasis of both organizations on bolstering the governments of El 
Salvador and Guatemala and on aiding the contras in their guerrilla 
war against the leftist government of Nicaragua. CAUSA and Refu- 
gee Relief International, an affiliate of the current American chapter 
of the World Anti-Communist League, both ferried supplies to the 
same contra camps in 1984. 

CAUSA's stated goal is to have conservative leaders from through- 



130 



out North and South America join forces under a single ideological 
banner to fight communism. That ideological banner would of course 
be Unificationism. It has pursued this goal by extending invitations 
to CAUSA seminars to businessmen, political leaders, scientists, and 
journalists, all expenses paid. It also organizes "fact-finding" trips to 
Asia and the United States and carries the message of theological 
anti-communism into the hinterlands of Latin America through radio 
stations and newspapers in eighteen countries. 

What has emerged, then, is a pattern of Moon joining forces with 
prominent American conservatives, former military and intelligence 
officials, and Reagan Administration appointees to jointly pursue a 
Latin America policy independent of the will of any government and 
of the dictates of any congress. This alliance has in fact been secured 
to such an extent that the disclosures of Koreagate might pale in 
comparison. It is perhaps for that reason that an analyst for the 
Institute of Defense Analysis, a Pentagon-funded think tank, warned 
of the possible effects that exposure of the Administration's ties to 
the Church might have on the 1984 elections. 

Current Moonie involvement with government officials, contractors 
and grantees . . . could create a major scandal. If their activities and 
role become public knowledge, it will unite both the left and the right 
in attacking the Administration. 

Moonie involvement leaves the government open to charges that 
can only be called mind-boggling. ... If efforts are not taken to stop 
their growing influence and weed out current Moonie involvement in 
government, the President stands a good chance of being portrayed in 
the media as a poor, naive incompetent. 

Lest the point be missed, the writer concludes, "Any thought that 
this festering problem will go away if ignored is foolish. There have 
been comments in the media about Moonie activities and the likely- 
hood [sic] of a reporter or a democratic staff member piecing the total 
picture together is too great to be neglected." 



ELEVEN 



The [China-WACL ] International Publicity Committee held 
a special work group meeting on April 1$ [1970] to discuss 
accelerated overseas distribution of anti-communist data and 
publications. . . . The United States shall be the major target 
area. . . . Major objectives shall be to correct the fallacious 
views of appeasers, expose the true face and weak points of 
communists, check the spread of the communist evil and pro- 
mote the ideals of WACL and APACL. 

WACL China chapter, 
May 1970 

1978, the vice-president of a Central American republic had 
dinner with an old school friend, a newly promoted lieutenant colo- 
nel in the nation's armed forces. The officer had just returned from 
two months in Taiwan. "It is such a pretty island/' the officer told 
his friend ; "with mountains and gorges and beaches. And the 
women! They are so beautiful and friendly." 

Throughout dinner ; the officer talked of the cuisine, the hospitality 
of the people and the scenery of the island. He never mentioned 
what his true mission in Taiwan had been. "I realized then/' the 
former vice-president told one of the authors, "that he was one of 
the brotherhood." 

Political change has been slow to come to Taiwan since the 
Kuomintang took over and created Nationalist China. By intimidat- 
ing overseas Chinese, by blanket censorship in Taiwan, and by the 



132 



extravagant hospitality shown American visitors, the Nationalist re- 
gime has successfully kept quiet the story of what one American 
official of a religious human rights group calls the most repressive 
country he has visited in Asia. 

Although the tiny island nation has experienced an economic 
boom, giving it one of the highest standards of living in Asia, it is 
still ruled by a nepotistic dictatorship of aging Kuomintang generals 
and industrialists; the native Formosans, ninety percent of the pop- 
ulation, are largely shut out of the system. Permanent martial law is 
in effect, and dissidents are routinely arrested, tortured, banished to 
the prison on Green Island, or executed. The police and military 
leadership positions are almost exclusively the domain of mainland- 
ers or their children. Opposition candidates are allowed to vie for 
only fifteen percent of the seats in the National Assembly; the rest 
are constitutionally reserved for the Kuomintang, who were elected 
on the mainland in the 1940s. 

The regime has a curious rationale for this system: since they 
cannot return to their native Chinese provinces to stand for elections, 
the Kuomintang legislators in Taiwan have no choice but to remain 
in the leadership roles to which they were elected in the 1940s. 
Likewise, all security measures, including the arbitrary arrests, sur- 
veillances, "disappearances," and kangaroo courts, are justified as nec- 
essary hardships that must be tolerated in order to recover the 
mainland. 

The Kuomintang has also pursued a program of repression in its 
activities throughout the world. A principal conduit for this "orga- 
nizational warfare" is the World Anti-Communist League. 

The Kuomintang "undertook to use organizational principles to 
counter and compete with the Communist talent for subversion 
through front groups. ... In a strategic sense, the principles of orga- 
nizational warfare were realized by membership in the United Na- 
tions and anti-communist alliances. All types of international 
organizations were seen as appropriate targets to be influenced from 
within by being a member and lobbying from that vantage point. 
Special emphasis was also given to infiltrating overseas Chinese pop- 
ulations and the interest groups that exist within them. International 
conferences, diplomacy and unofficial international contacts and 
channels were considered excellent means to spread anti-communist 
influence." 1 



133 



Consequently, it is not only Taiwanese residents or citizens who 
must accept the dictates of the Kuomintang. Taiwanese students in 
the United States live in a state of fear due to the presence of "profes- 
sional students/' KMT agents sent to watch over the Chinese com- 
munity and to report on any deviant (pro-mainland China or 
pro-Formosa independence) behavior or activities. The Kuomintang's 
informants even have standardized index cards ("total number of 
students who are patriotic," "total number of students who are pro- 
Communist," "information about the enemies") that they fill out 
and send to Taiwan every month. Students in the United States who 
fail to follow the KMT line have had their exit visas revoked, have 
received death threats, or have been warned of the dire effect that 
further political activity might have on the student's family remain- 
ing in Taiwan. 

Taiwanese professors living in the United States are no safer. In 
1981, Wen-Chen Chen, an assistant professor at Carnegie-Mellon 
University who had criticized the Kuomintang government, visited 
his family in Taiwan. He was picked up by the secret police and 
interrogated for thirteen hours; then he reportedly committed suicide 
when "overcome with remorse" for his anti-state pronouncements. 

In 1984, David Liu, a journalist living in California who had writ- 
ten a book critical of the Kuomintang, was shot in the face and chest 
by two men on bicycles outside his home. The FBI investigation of 
the murder implicated high Taiwanese government officials, includ- 
ing the director and the deputy director of the intelligence bureau of 
the ministry of national defense. 

One of the most ardent critics of Taiwan's foreign surveillance 
and harassment campaign is Representative James Leach (R-Iowa), 
who led a Subcommittee on Asian and Pacific Affairs investigation 
of KMT activities in the United States in 1981. "In the activities 
documented by our subcommittee," he wrote Attorney General Wil- 
liam French Smith, "it would appear that the Taiwan government 
has massively violated the Foreign Agents Registration Act. In addi- 
tion, there is a strong possibility that it has stretched or violated tax, 
mail, and immigration laws and conventions, as well as our privacy 
statutes. ... It is clear that many Taiwanese are directly and indi- 
rectly prevented from exercising the rights of free speech, privacy, 
and association guaranteed by the Constitution." 2 

The Kuomintang program against dissidents in the United States 



134 



is just one aspect of the regime's campaign of political and uncon- 
ventional warfare against those it considers its enemies. This warfare 
has become far more prevalent— and deadly— since the opening of 
mainland China to the outside world in the early 1970s. 

As nations began dropping recognition of Nationalist China in 
favor of the People's Republic of China, organizations like the World 
Anti-Communist League and the Asian People's Anti-Communist 
League took on far more significance for the Kuomintang govern- 
ment. With their embassies relegated to the status of missions or 
abolished altogether, the Taiwanese sought to maintain their foreign 
ties by whatever channels were stiJl left open to them, namely "in- 
dependent" international associations such as the League. 

So quick and total was the diplomatic about-face by Taiwan's 
primary allies in Western Europe and the United States that the 
Kuomintang had to scramble to consolidate their last great bastion 
of support— Latin America. They established large diplomatic mis- 
sions that were totally disproportionate to the level of economic or 
political ties in such countries as Paraguay and Guatemala; through 
them, the Nationalist Chinese appealed to the anti-communist sen- 
timents of Latin leaders to ensure continued support for Taiwan. 

To achieve unity with anti-communist countries, "the General 
Political Warfare Department enlisted cultural, educational, social and 
economic organizations in this campaign. Virtually all individual and 
governmental activities, domestic and international, were expected to 
proceed from an ideological perspective." 3 To this end, the Nation- 
alists expanded the League throughout Latin America, creating the 
regional affiliate, the Latin American Anti-Communist Confedera- 
tion (CAL) in 1972. The Kuomintang did not view such organiza- 
tions as mere public relations forums but rather as the "organizational 
warfare" aspect of their global political warfare scheme. 

In their search for new allies and in their effort to retain old ones, 
the Nationalists in Taiwan were willing to do much more than sim- 
ply orate about the need for a common anti-communist strategy at 
League conferences. They also used their League connections to ren- 
der a mutually beneficial service to their right-wing allies in South 
and Central America. Through the offices of the World Anti-Com- 
munist League, they offered to train the police, military, and security 
forces of the region in unconventional warfare, interrogation, and 



135 

counterterror tactics at their Political Warfare Cadres Academy in 
Peitou. 4 

In the past decade, most Latin American nations have accepted 
the Taiwanese offer; this has created a continental fraternity of thou- 
sands of high-ranking officers who are united by their anti-commu- 
nist convictions and the Kuomintang-taught creed, "you have to be 
as cruel as the enemy" to win. This is the "brotherhood" that the 
Central American vice-president referred to. 

During his tenure in office, the vice-president met other members 
of the fraternity, graduates of the Political Warfare Cadres Academy. 
"All of them were the same. They would talk about the food, the 
girls, but about the training, never! It was eerie, as if there was some 
sort of pact of silence. I was the Vice President and even I had no 
idea of what went on there." 

Although the civilian vice-president didn't realize it, there was a 
very good reason why he did not know what transpired at the acad- 
emy. Through their political warfare training program, the Kuom- 
intang were erecting in Latin America carbon copies of what they 
had created in Taiwan: a politicized military whose first loyalty was 
to the party, then to the military, and finally to the nation. "You 
have to create a political structure to support your own military." 
Brian Jenkins, a counterinsurgency expert for the Rand Corporation, 
explained the Taiwan system to Los Angeles Times reporter Laurie 
Becklund in 1983. "That gives it a flow of intelligence. In a sense, 
you wind up with a political party, with the military being the armed 
component of that party." 5 

Through this quiet program, Taiwan was attempting to mold 
anti-communist and pro-Kuomintang Latin officers in every branch 
of the military in South and Central America. 

Although officials of nearly all Latin nations have participated in 
the Peitou program at one time or another, it has not been regarded 
with universal approval by their leaders. Some have reportedly ac- 
quiesced because of the Kuomintang's insistent demands and veiled 
threats of economic retaliation. One leader caught in this bind was 
General Omar Torrijos, the late strongman of Panama. "I don ; t trust 
the Taiwanese," he once told a visiting dignitary, "and I don ; t trust 
my men when they came back. They brainwash them. I have to 
prepare them before they go." 6 

Torrijos prepared them by telling them what to expect at the 



136 



academy and warning them not to succumb to the relentless "cruelty 
as a necessity" and anti-Communist China rhetoric of the instruc- 
tors. The Panamanian leader was so suspicious of the Taiwanese 
methods and of their effect on his men that upon their return he 
submitted them to "geographical debriefing/' stationing them in jun- 
gle outposts with only four or five men under their command. 

This Kuomintang scheme is conducted through one of their "or- 
ganizational warfare" arms, the World Anti-Communist League. 
This Taiwanese version of The Invasion of the Body Snatchers in Latin 
America is developed in two stages, each coordinated through the 
offices of the League. This plan has already been pursued and accom- 
plished in countries such as El Salvador and Guatemala. 

First, through its liaisons in the League, the Kuomintang identifies 
the political party in a Latin country that is the most militantly anti- 
communist. The political party chosen to be represented in the League 
is invariably the one that has already actively proven its anti-com- 
munist mettle or else displays the ability-and will to do so. Following 
the Kuomintang model, the chosen party establishes a nationwide 
intelligence and counterterror network. These paramilitary groups 
are then gradually incorporated into the nation's armed forces. This 
is usually accomplished when, in a moment of national crisis, the 
army turns to these civilian bands for support, or when it is too 
impotent to curb them. 

In so doing, the paramilitary "party" effectively takes over those 
branches of the military with which it operates, just as the Kuom- 
intang did in prerevolutionary China. 

This first phase of the Kuomintang model is well illustrated in 
Guatemala and El Salvador. In each, the death squad apparatus that 
became institutionalized in the military was first created by a pseu- 
dopolitical party. In Guatemala, this party was the National Libera- 
tion Movement (MLN) of Mario Sandoval Alarcon; in El Salvador, 
it was first the National Conciliation Party (PCN) and later the Na- 
tionalist Republican Alliance (ARENA) of Roberto D'Aubuisson. It 
is not coincidence that the World Anti-Communist League chapters 
from Guatemala and El Salvador have predominantly been composed 
of officials from these parties. Nor is it coincidence that El Salvador's 
ARENA, the so-called "death squad party," has a structure remark- 
ably similar to the Kuomintang. 



137 



"ARENA/ 7 former U.S. Ambassador to El Salvador Robert White 
reported in 1984, "has a politico-military organization which em- 
braces not only a civilian party structure but also a military arm 
obedient to the party." 7 

The second phase of the exported Kuomintang model is the one 
that most directly benefits Nationalist China. Once its power base is 
established in the military, the Latin political party is used as a con- 
duit to relay Taiwan's invitation to the nation's armed forces to train 
select officers at the Peitou academy. Theseroffers are often extended 
through the party officials who attend the World Anti-Communist 
League conferences. Because the political party has infiltrated its cadres 
into the decision-making offices of the military, those selected to go 
to Taiwan are naturally party loyalists or sympathizers. When the 
officers return, they are promoted and scattered throughout the var- 
ious military branches. Consequently, the Latin political party gains 
supporters— and Taiwan gains allies— in prominent positions at all 
levels of the armed forces. 

The Latin American cadres who travel to Taiwan to be trained 
return to their native countries, where they in turn instruct their 
comrades in the "Taiwanese method." This method of "total war" 
includes aspects of unconventional warfare, or counterterror. Al- 
though the Taiwanese may not actually urge the formation of death 
squads, some of their Latin pupils have incorporated aspects of their 
instruction to these ends. Among those who have received training 
at the Political Warfare Cadres Academy is Roberto D'Aubuisson of 
El Salvador. D'Aubuisson is widely believed to be the mastermind 
behind his nation's death squads. 



TWELVE 



These people aren't Jew-haters; they're killers. This anti- 
Semitism is bullshit; it's a smokescreen to throw people off 
the track of what they're really doing. A nd what they're really 
doing is killing people. 

former Salvadoran government official 
referring to CAL, March 1985 

Havinc been given free rein by the World Anti-Communist 
League leadership, the Tecos of Mexico established League chapters 
throughout South and Central America in the early 1970s. As could 
have been predicted, their initiates into the Latin American Anti- 
Communist Confederation (CAL) were drawn from fanatic circles 
throughout the region. 

The Tecos had a well-established network of "men of action" 
from which to choose: secret police officials, military officers, and 
wealthy landowners and industrialists who were ready to defend 
their fortunes at any price. For the Tecos were well known in the 
region by the 1970s; in the name of anti-communism, they were 
reportedly in the business of eliminating whoever needed eliminating 
for whoever would pay for the job.* 

*Some observers suspect that the Tecos recently eliminated at least one well- 
known person for personal reasons. In April 1984, Manuel Buendia, Mexico's 
foremost investigative journalist, wrote a three-part series exposing "Los Tecos," 
their secret code of honor, and their control of the Autonomous University of 
Guadalajara. A month later, leaving his Mexico City office, Buendia was assas- 
sinated with four close-range shots to the back. His murder has not been solved. 



139 



"I've dealt with these people [the Tecos],' 7 Colonel Roberto Eula- 
lio Santivanez, the former counterespionage chief of El Salvador, told 
one of the authors. "They came to me when I was in the military 
and offered us their services. To show they meant business, they 
bragged that they had a death list of people in the States, people they 
wanted to get rid of. They were trying to work out the logistics 
then; I don't know if they ever got anyone. But in Salvador, they 
didn't see any problem. They said they could get anyone I wanted. 
They offered to provide everything— the guns, the people— but they 
wanted money up front. I threw them out; so they went to the 
civilians, the oligarchs." 1 

Apparently spurned by the Salvadoran military and possibly by 
others, the Tecos pursued their program with civilian groups. It was 
in establishing CAL that the Tecos 7 true mission was revealed. What 
they were attempting to create was not an "Anti-Semitic Interna- 
tional/ 7 as American League member Stefan Possony had feared, but 
a "Death Squad International. 77 

The World Anti-Communist League provided a perfect cover for 
this recruitment operation and within a short time, some of the most 
notorious killers, sadists, drug traffickers, and terrorists in Latin 
America could be found under the CAL umbrella. 

Mario Sandoval Alarcon, the founder of Guatemala's National Lib- 
eration Movement (MLN), is a heavyset man in his mid-sixties. Since 
1972, he has headed the Guatemalan chapter of the World Anti- 
Communist League. Due to throat cancer, he speaks in a rasp aided 
by an electronic amplifier. 

When Sandoval eventually dies from his cancer, his end will come 
too late for the tens of thousands of Guatemalans who have been 
kidnapped, tortured, executed, and dumped onto roadsides by the 
death squads that this former vice-president has helped control for 
the past twenty years. Sandoval attended the 1 985 League conference 
in Dallas and President Reagan's Inaugural Ball in 1981. 

In drawing Sandoval into the League, the Mexican Tecos acquired 
a high-profile personality who was a member of one of Guatemala's 
ruling families. In the 1970s he achieved mentor status among Latin 
rightists and became the guiding force of the Latin American Anti- 
Communist Confederation. By giving material assistance and advice 
to other death squad parties, Sandoval established a regional network 



140 



of terror and earned himself the title "Godfather." Although the Te- 
cos and the Argentine Tacuaras of Julio Meinveille may have been 
CAL's spiritual leaders, Sandoval, "the biggest anti-communist leader 
in the world, now that Chiang Kai-shek is dead/ ; according to one 
right-wing Salvadoran admirer ; was to be the "on-site" manager who 
would put their plans into action in Central America. 

In the 1970s, Carlos Barbieri Filho was practically unknown in 
his native Brazil. An ultra-rightist in his thirties, Barbieri Filho's pol- 
itics—and his habit of carrying a pistol on his hip— were too extreme 
for most of his countrymen. His call for violent confrontation with 
the forces of communism seemed a little out of step in a nation that 
had not experienced the horrors of an all-out civil war and that did 
not see the need to "kill or be killed." Nor could Barbieri find much 
support among the rightist military, which, although ruling Brazil, 
was rather benign compared to the neighboring juntas of Argentina, 
Bolivia, and Uruguay. Even the arch-conservative Brazilian organi- 
zation Tradition, Family and Property (TFP), with its goal to return 
Brazil to a kind of medieval Catholic feudalism, considered him 
something of a volatile madman. 

The Tecos, scouting for a Brazilian branch of CAL, did not share 
that view. Barbieri was duly anointed chairman of the chapter rep- 
resenting the largest and most powerful nation in Latin America. 

Barbieri has played a much greater role in the World Anti-Com- 
munist League than merely attending conferences. He is reportedly 
an important agent in the Taiwanese governments campaign to gain 
influence in South America. 

According to a TFP official, Barbieri Filho operates out of a front 
company in Paraguay. His Financiera Urundey office reportedly ar- 
ranges the rosters of the officers to be sent to Taiwan and handles 
the logistics of their travel. Traveling frequently to Taiwan himself, 
Barbieri is the object of lavish praise from his Kuomintang paymas- 
ters. 

One night in 1981, a man was murdered in his home in San 
Salvador. The man killed that night was a wealthy businessman, a 
former member of the National Assembly, and the chairman of the 
Salvadoran chapter of the World Anti-Communist League. He was 
also a compulsive murderer, sadist, and drunk who had once acci- 



141 

dentally killed a servant boy while shooting at a "friend" during a 
cocktail party argument. Former Salvadoran army officers also re- 
member him as a man who used to appear at interrogation centers 
and beg for permission to torture the prisoners. 

"The man had a dual personality/ 7 former Salvadoran Colonel 
Santivanez recalls, "drunk and sober. When he was sober ; he was a 
torturer and killer; when he was drunk ; he was worse." 

With the death of Adolfo Cuellar, the League lost an anti-com- 
munist "man of action" but gained a martyr. 

Pastor Coronel was not one to complain about the repressive rule 
of General Alfredo Stroessner in the South American nation of Par- 
aguay. The litany of accusations made against the government— that 
it was the smuggling center for Latin America, a haven for Nazi war 
criminals, a place where the indigenous Ache Indians were hunted 
down and killed for sport, where eight-year-old girls were "bought" 
for $ 1 .25 and used for the sexual depravity of government officials- 
could not have found any sympathy from Pastor Coronel. Then 
again, no one who participated in the 1977 Latin American Anti- 
Communist Confederation conference in Asuncion, Paraguay, would 
have voiced such criticisms to Coronel, their fellow attendee. They 
probably would have agreed with Bo Hi Pak when he said of Stroes- 
sner, "I believe he's a special man, chosen by God to run his coun- 
try." 2 

Coronel was among the few Paraguayans who had benefited from 
the cruel reign of the general and his Colorado political party. As 
chief of the Investigative Police, the country's secret police, Coronel 
had become an extremely wealthy man. In the early 1970s, accord- 
ing to a classified CIA document, he had been smuggling partners 
with Auguste Ricorde, a Corsican drug kingpin. Together, with the 
assistance of many of the nation's highest-ranking generals, they had 
turned Paraguay into the "Heroin Crossroads of South America," 
channeling the contraband on its way to the United States. Ricorde 
was finally extradited to the United States in 1973; Coronel was left 
unscathed. 

Simultaneously amassing his personal fortune and seeing to Para- 
guay's internal security had made Coronel a busy man. Under a 
state-of -siege decree that has existed since 1954, the chief of the In- 
vestigative Police is empowered to arrest and interrogate anyone at 



142 

any time. Survivors from Paraguayan prisons tell of CoroneFs per- 
sonal involvement in the "interrogations/' submitting his victims to 
beatings and electric shocks, hanging them by their wrists, and hold- 
ing their heads in tubs of excrement. 

Coronel did not focus his attention solely on Paraguay ; however. 
As secret police chief ; he knew that Paraguayan subversives some- 
times escaped across borders to voice their opposition in exile. At the 
same time, subversives from other nations occasionally came into 
Paraguay for safety.* In the 1970s, a clandestine regional program, 
Operation Condor, was devised to meet this threat, with Pastor Co- 
ronel directing its Paraguayan operations. 

What united all these disparate "anti-communists" and drew them 
into the World Anti-Communist League was a school of thought 
that had taken hold in right-wing circles throughout Latin America 
by the 1970s; Operation Condor was just one manifestation of this 
philosophy put into practice. 

Paraphrased, it is based on four principles: 1. all dissidents and 
opponents of the state are communists; 2. all communists are taking 
orders from the same source in the pursuit of communist control of 
the world; 3. since their orders come from the same source, the op- 
position in one nation is the same as the opposition in another; and 
4. for the nations of Latin America to fight a united enemy, they too 
must unite. This implies that one nation has the right, in fact the 
duty, to silence not only the opposition to one's own regime but 
also the opposition to any neighboring regime. 

The brainchild of the Chilean secret police (DINA), Operation 
Condor was created in 1976 to coordinate the security forces of Latin 
American right-wing governments, enabling them to track and hunt 
down their enemies. Through joint intelligence-gathering and -shar- 
ing, a leftist who had fled Brazil, for example, could be located in 
Argentina. Then "Phase Three" could be initiated. 

Phase Three, according to a top-secret 1979 report of the Senate 
Foreign Relations Committee that was obtained by columnist Jack 
Anderson, "involves the formation of special teams from member 

*The assassination of the deposed Nicaraguan dictator Anastasio Somoza in 
Asunci6n in September 1980 was carried out by Argentine leftists who had 
slipped into Paraguay. 



143 



countries assigned to travel anywhere in the world to non-member 
countries to carry out 'sanctions'— including assassination— against 
Condor enemies." 

According to Anderson, "One 'Phase Three' team is charged with 
drawing up the Condor 'hit list' in a particular country. Then a 
second team is dispatched to locate the targeted victims and conduct 
surveillance on them. Finally, a third team ; drawn from one or more 
member police agencies, is sent to carry out the 'sanction' decided 
upon." 3 

It now seems likely that the car-bomb killing of Chilean dissident 
Orlando Letelier in Washington in 1976 (orchestrated by an Ameri- 
can contract agent of the Chilean secret police and conducted by anti- 
Castro Cuban exiles) and the attempted murder of Bernardo Leighton 
(shot by an Italian fascist on orders from Chile, with the "credit" 
taken by Cuban exiles) are examples of the work of Condor. There 
are other cases throughout Latin America with the Condor imprint, 
from liberal Uruguayan politicians murdered in Argentina to Chilean 
dissidents killed in Bolivia. 

Officially, Operation Condor was dismantled after American au- 
thorities became aware of it and exerted strong pressure on the dic- 
tators responsible. In reality, it has simply changed form; Latin 
American governments continued to carry out "trans-national ter- 
ror/' now often contracting out its assignments to private groups. 
One of those private groups was the World Anti-Communist League, 
specifically its Latin American affiliate, the CAL. 

At the 1977 Confederation conference, Pastor Coronel, the Para- 
guayan secret police chief and his nation's Operation Condor coor- 
dinator was in the company of other ultra-rightists and officers from 
right-wing governments from around the hemisphere. Together they 
formulated a new ; more violent role for the League. 

Since the 1960s, the opposition to the right-wing governments in 
South and Central America had steadily grown until, by the late 
1970s, it had reached perilous proportions. Dissent could now be 
found over a very wide and expanding spectrum and was far too 
extensive to be dealt with by the sort of "surgical strikes" that were 
Operation Condor's specialty. After decades of practice, security forces 
could deal with labor leaders, liberal politicians, and agrarian reform- 
ers, but a much more serious and powerful movement was growing, 



144 



one that could not be dealt with in the same manner: the Vatican 
Church. 

During the 1960s, many Catholic priests in South and Central 
America rejected the Vatican tradition of allying with the ruling mil- 
itaries and oligarchies and had shown new concern for the plight of 
the majority, who were poor ; uneducated, and malnourished. Priests, 
including many from Europe and the United States, became spokes- 
men for the rights of the disenfranchised, whether they were striking 
workers or landless peasants or families inquiring into the fate of a 
family member picked up and taken away by the security forces. By 
the 1970s, as conflict spread throughout the region and the ruling 
regimes reacted with even greater repression, many of the Catholic 
clergy became radicalized along with the general population, voicing 
a doctrine termed "liberation theology." Priests became some of the 
most vocal and visible opponents of the right-wing juntas, in some 
cases to the point of taking up arms. To the League, rather than 
representing legitimate concerns, liberation theology was just one 
more insidious form of communism. 

"I accuse," Sandoval Alarcon charged, "and at the same time de- 
nounce, the fact that the Catholic Church is the victim of an intense 
Marxist penetration. . . . This comes from revolutionary priests . . . 
[and is] one more trick of Communism and its infiltrated accomplices 
strongly acting within the highest echelons of the Catholic hier- 
archy." 4 

This anti- Vatican stance was of course mirrored in the vicious 
attacks of the Mexican Tecos on Pope Paul VI ("a Jew and a drug 
addict"), but it also touched a responsive chord in non-Latin League 
members, including the Romanian Iron Guard. "When the powers 
of darkness threaten the very existence of Christianity," Horia Sima 
told his followers, "there is no other solution but the recourse to 
arms. The 'peaceful co-existence' with Communism, adopted by 
many Christians of today, is nothing but an expression of cowardice. 
It is a 'running away' from sacrifice and responsibility. The Church 
has been abandoned to the anti-Christ." 5 

What the juntas needed was a new regional network to spot, 
track, and silence, through murder, deportation, or jail sentences, lib- 
eral priests. This new form of transnational terror, just one more 
variation on the unconventional warfare theme, was delineated in 
1975 in the "Banzer Plan" (named after the Bolivian dictator of the 



U5 



time, Hugo Banzer Juarez) and would be achieved through the offices 
of the Latin American Anti-Communist Confederation. 

"The backbone of this strategy was a central depository of intel- 
ligence containing dossiers on all progressive Iaity ; clergy and bish- 
ops, with which to 'monitor and denounce Marxist infiltration in 
the Church/ . . . The three main thrusts of the campaign were to 
sharpen internal divisions within the Church ; to smear and harass 
progressive . . . Church leaders, and to arrest or expel foreign priests 
and nuns." 6 

This plan was first discussed at the CAL conference in Asuncion 
in 1977 by the Bolivian chapter and was accepted by nine other 
Latin American countries. In 1978, the Paraguayan delegation intro- 
duced a priest-tracking resolution to the entire assembly of the World 
Anti-Communist League, repeating almost word for word the tenets 
of the Banzer Plan. 

Since a few years back, the Catholic Apostolic Roman Church, as 
well as some other Christian denominations, have worked together 
or parallelly [sic], in an institutional form or through groups of indi- 
viduals having as an aim attempted changes in the total structure of 
society, especially in underdeveloped countries. 

All this has originated actions scientifically motivated by the Marx- 
ist ideology, and politically directed by international communism, di- 
rectly disturbing order and harmony in the political field. In 
underdeveloped countries, priests or nuns of foreign nationality, whose 
personal background and ideological attitude are difficult to know at 
the moment of their entrance into the country are frequently present. 

Therefore, based upon the reasons above, the 11th. Anticommunist 
Conference resolves: to recommend the settlement of an office which 
specializes on religious affairs, organized on a regional basis, and es- 
pecially devoted to maintain up-to-date information about the ideolog- 
ical orientation of the main religious institutions, as well as to elaborate 
a file containing the names of priests and nuns along with their per- 
sonal background, to be annually revised. 7 

The resolution passed overwhelmingly. 

Whether this priest-watching network ever reached the sophisticated 
level the Paraguayan chapter called for in 1978 is not clear. What is 
clear is that during the two years after CAL adopted the Banzer Plan, 
at least twenty-eight bishops, priests, and lay persons were killed in 
Latin America; most of their murders were attributed to government 



security forces or rightist death squads. That number multiplied after 
1980 as civil war spread through Guatemala and El Salvador. 

Although they were used by right-wing governments to combat 
the "communist threat" within the Church, the Latin chapters of the 
World Anti-Communist League did not confine themselves to this 
mission. In 1980 ; they served as the major liaison in exporting death 
squads ; sophisticated surveillance, torture, and infiltration techniques 
from South America to Central America. 

In 1980, Argentina was just beginning to recover from a bloody 
civil war that had claimed thousands of lives and that had helped 
leave that nation, once the wealthiest in South America, bankrupt 
and reliant on foreign aid to pay its bills. 

The enemies of the state in Argentina had been the Montoneros, 
a small leftist guerrilla band that throughout the 1970s had waged a 
campaign of kidnapping, selective assassination, and bank robbery. 
When the civilian government had proved unable to eliminate the 
Montoneros, the army had stepped in and established a military junta. 
What occurred then is known as the "dirty war." 

Journalists, students, Jewish leaders, liberal priests, and anyone sus- 
pected of being anti-state or pro-Montonero were rounded up, tor- 
tured, and killed by the Argentine security forces. In the spirit of 
Operation Condor, prominent exiles residing in Argentina were elim- 
inated as a favor to the right-wing governments of Uruguay and 
Chile. Thousands were buried in secret cemeteries; others were 
thrown into the Rio de la Plata or dropped from helicopters into the 
Atlantic Ocean. By 1980, an estimated nine thousand people, only 
a small fraction of them actual Montoneros, had been murdered. 
Despite the death toll, the military government accomplished what 
it had set out to do: the Montoneros had practically ceased to exist. 

The "dirty war" caused the Argentine junta to be viewed with 
repugnance throughout the world but not by the military regimes of 
its neighbors or by the ultra-rightists in the World Anti-Communist 
League. "Argentina," Teco Professor Rafael Rodriguez told the 1980 
League conference, "along with Chile and Uruguay, are the only coun- 
tries in the world who overthrew and rid themselves of the Marxist 
revolutionary guerrilla. Argentina has no reason to give explanations 
to international committees which show up to interrogate about events 



U7 



which happened in war actions and in which the men on both sides 
were armed and had the same chances of living or dying." 8 

Rather, in destroying the Montoneros and all other opposition, 
Argentina served as an example to the League rightists of just what 
was necessary to combat the international communist threat. 

The [leftist] violations of human rights endured by Argentine society 
in the last decade and which, in particular, became more pronounced 
during the period of a full democratic government, must be known 
by the organisms of American nations. These nations should be pre- 
. pared to take joint measures against a danger that has no boundaries. 9 

The Argentine interrogators who had tortured information out of 
their victims went on to teach their methods to their counterparts in 
other Latin countries. The security agents who had transported truck- 
loads of bodies to dumping grounds under the cover of darkness 
would have to show their fellow anti-communists elsewhere how to 
dispose of their corpses efficiently. For the promotion of this "edu- 
cational process/' the Latin American Anti-Communist Confedera- 
tion once again served as the key coordinator. 10 

In September 1980, the annual CAL conference was held in Bue- 
nos Aires, capital of Argentina. Presiding over the meeting was Gen- 
eral Carlos Guillermo Suarez Mason, commander of the Argentine 
First Army Corps; he was responsible for executing much of the 
"dirty war" in the capital. There were several celebrities among the 
audience, including John Carbaugh, an aide to North Carolina Sen- 
ator Jesse Helms, and Stef ano delle Chiaie, an Italian terrorist wanted 
for countless murders and bombings throughout Europe. He had 
made the journey from his asylum in Bolivia, where he was allegedly 
in a cocaine-smuggling partnership with Klaus Barbie, a notorious 
Nazi war criminal known as "the Butcher of Lyon."* Also at the 
meeting was Mario Sandoval Alarcon, the Guatemalan "Godfather." 
He had brought along a cashiered Salvadoran major who was both 
a friend and a protege, Roberto D ; Aubuisson. 

* Klaus Barbie was deported to France to stand trial for war crimes in 1982, after 
a democratic government was elected in Bolivia. In 1982, Italian commandos 
staged a raid in Bolivia to capture Stefano delle Chiaie and a cohort, Pierluigi 
Pagllai. Pagllal was mortally wounded; delle Chiaie escaped and his current 
whereabouts arc unknown. 



148 



D'Aubuisson had already made a name for himself by carting off 
hundreds of files from the Salvadoran National Security Agency, 
where he had been deputy chief until late 1979. A few weeks later ; 
he had appeared on national television, files in hand, to denounce 
those he called "subversives" in the government military, Church, 
universities, and labor unions; many of them later turned up 
dead. 

In 1980, the civil strife in El Salvador was expanding. What was 
needed were not select assassinations of opponents but an all-out 
anti-communist campaign along the lines of the Argentine "dirty 
war." For that ; though, the rightists in El Salvador needed help. Like 
a college graduate "networking 7 ' for a job, D'Aubuisson was in Bue- 
nos Aires to make the necessary contacts. 

Sandoval Alarc6n introduced him to the right people. Within two 
months, at least fifty Argentine unconventional-warfare advisers were 
dispatched into El Salvador to assist their anti-communist compa- 
triots. They helped their students perfect their counterterror tactics 
so well that the extent of the "dirty war" in Argentina would be 
dwarfed by that in El Salvador. 

In 1983, according to the chairman of the World Anti-Communist 
League, retired U.S. Major General John K. Singlaub, there was a 
major purge of the violent elements in the Latin chapters of the 
League. "We got rid of all those types," he asserts. "We've been 
trying to get rid of them since we joined [1981]. The people in 
WACL from Latin American now are good, respectable anti-com- 
munists." 1 1 

In reaction to the Jack Anderson articles that exposed CAL in 
January 1984, Singlaub turned to a prominent friend in the New 
Right for help. His January 30, 1984, letter to Reed Irvine, of Ac- 
curacy in Media, concludes: "Any help that you can give us in 
obtaining a retraction from Jack Anderson for that part of his ar- 
ticles which link WACL with the death squad activity will be 
greatly appreciated. If a retraction is not possible, I would appre- 
ciate your assistance in neutralizing the negative impact of these 
articles." 

No retraction was made, for nothing had really changed in the 
League. Those that were purged in 1984 (not in 1983, as Singlaub 
asserts) were the Mexican Tecos. The others, the Bolivians who first 



149 



announced the Banzer Plan, the Guatemalans who established that 
nation's death squads, and the Brazilians who coordinate the political 
warfare training program for Taiwan are still there and still wielding 
their deadly influence. 



THIRTEEN 



The term "unconventional warfare" includes, in addition to 
terrorism, subversion and guerrilla warfare, such covert and 
non-military activities as sabotage, economic warfare, sup- 
port to resistance groups, black and gray psychological op- 
erations, disinformation activities, and political warfare. . . . 

We find ourselves forced into inactivity because we lack 
the capability and the will to exercise [this] third option for 
our own defense, to take pressure off of an ally, or to exploit 
to our advantage the many vulnerabilities that now exist in 
the Soviet Empire. 

What is needed as a matter of urgency is a national strat- 
egy which recognizes the whole spectrum of potential conflict 
and most especially the current unrecognized conflict at the 
unconventional warfare end of the scale. 

/laired Major General John K. Singlaub 

Phoenix, 1982 

On November 22, 1981, a meeting was held at the Mountain 
Shadow Resort Inn in Phoenix, Arizona. At the conclave were some 
of the top luminaries of the American ultra-right. The purpose of the 
meeting at the Mountain Shadow, which had been called by retired 
Major General John K. Singlaub, was to create a new American 
chapter of the World Anti-Communist League. 

During his thirty-five -year career in the military, Singlaub had con- 
tinually been involved in an official capacity in the sort of uncon- 



i5i 



ventional warfare that the World Anti-Communist League was now 
pursuing unofficially. 

As an officer in the Office of Strategic Services (OSS), he had 
parachuted behind Nazi lines in France in 1944 to organize Resis- 
tance forces in advance of D-Day. He was then transferred to the 
Pacific theater, where he commanded an OSS team that instructed 
the Chinese in guerrilla warfare against the occupying Japanese. In 
1946, he was assigned to be chief of the U.S. military liaison mission 
to Mukden, Manchuria, then served as the China desk officer for the 
CIA in 1949. After being involved in the establishment of the Ranger 
Training Center at Fort Benning, Georgia, he became CIA deputy 
chief in South Korea during the Korean War and served as a combat 
battalion commander. 

His two-year stint in Vietnam in the mid-1960s is probably the 
most controversial period of his career. As commander of the Joint 
Unconventional Warfare Task Force, known as MACSOG, Singlaub 
was one of the on-site commanders of Operation Phoenix, the Amer- 
ican-directed assassination and counterterror program. 1 

As a specialist in unconventional warfare and covert operations, 
Singlaub necessarily kept a low profile. That ended in 1978, when, 
as chief of staff of the United Nations Command in South Korea, he 
publicly denounced President Carter's plans to scale back American 
troop involvement there. Rebuked, Singlaub was forced to retire. 

No one can dispute Singlaub's heroism: he is one of the most 
decorated officers in modem American history— the Distinguished 
Service Medal with Oak Leaf Cluster, the French Croix de Guerre, 
and the Silver Star Medal are just some of the dozens of military 
decorations he has received— but one can certainly wonder about his 
participation in the World Anti-Communist League. 

In the two years before the Mountain Shadow meeting, Singlaub 
had become increasingly interested in the international federation. In 
1980, he had been a speaker at the Asian People's Anti-Communist 
League conference in Taipei. Already in 1981 he had been an ob- 
server at the World League conference in Taipei. There he had been 
beseeched by League leaders to become more active in his support of 
the organization. 

"They were concerned that after the [Roger] Pearson disaster," 
Singlaub recalls, "they no longer had an American chapter. They 



i5Z 

asked me if I would be interested in establishing a new one. After 
thinking about it and talking to different people ; I agreed." 2 

Singlaub ; s new American chapter was not to be on the fringe of 
American conservatism, as had been Roger Pearson's. "I called a 
group together, mostly people who were interested in, or had been 
involved with, national security and foreign policy." 

The new American League chapter, the United States Council for 
World Freedom (USCWF), was born, facilitated by a loan of nearly 
twenty thousand dollars from Taiwan. 

What Singlaub was able to create was a body of powerful and 
respected American conservatives the likes of which the League had 
never seen. As the USCWF grew, this new League chapter came to 
include high-ranking former officers of the American military and 
intelligence community. Lieutenant General Daniel O. Graham, for- 
mer director of the Defense Intelligence Agency, became its vice- 
chairman, while a retired Air Force lieutenant colonel, Albert Koen, 
was treasurer. On the advisory board was General Lewis Walt, for- 
mer commander of Marine Corps forces in Vietnam ; and Ray 
Sleeper, a retired Air Force colonel. 

With Singlaub's status as a darling among conservatives— they 
compared his political outlook and the circumstances of his military 
downfall with those of General Douglas MacArthur— the United 
States Council for World Freedom could also reach leaders in New 
Right political and academic circles. 

Today ; John Fisher, president of the American Security Council (who 
first became involved with the League in the 1970s through the Amer- 
ican Council for World Freedom) has returned to the League by serving 
on the USCWF's advisory board. He is joined there by such notables 
as Howard Phillips, chairman of the Conservative Caucus, and Andy 
Messing, formerly the caucus's executive director and now head of the 
National Defense Council. On the board of directors are Anthony 
Bouscaren, a professor of political science at Le Moyne University; 
Anthony Kubek, professor and curator of the General Claire Chennault 
Library at Troy University in Alabama; and Fred Schlafly, a constitu- 
tional lawyer and the husband of Phyllis Schlafly of anti-ERA fame. 
Also on the board of directors is Robert Morris, former chief counsel 
for the U.S. Senate Internal Security Subcommittee and current chair- 
man of the National Committee to Restore Internal Security and pres- 
ident of Piano University in New Jersey. 



'53 



Is it possible that in 1981 the members of this new American 
League chapter were somehow ignorant of the notoriety of the or- 
ganization they had joined? 

No, it is not possible, for joining the USCWF were at least four 
officers of the old American Council for World Freedom. The recollec- 
tions of Stefan Possony, Lev Dobriansky, Jay Parker, and Fred Schlafly 
should have been sufficient for the new American chapter to learn all 
it needed to know about the anti-Semitic, fascist, and neo-Nazi ele- 
ments that populated the World Anti-Communist League. If that were 
not enough, there was also the curious presence in the USCWF of 
David Rowe, professor of political science at Yale University. In 1970, 
as an executive member of the American Council for World Freedom, 
Rowe had written a scathing attack on the chairman of the World 
Anti-Communist League, Ku Cheng-kang, and had resigned when the 
council had joined the League over his objections. His contempt for Ku 
did not, however, dissuade him from joining the new American chap- 
ter of a League that Ku still headed. The presence of former ACWF 
officers is probably the most incriminating evidence against the new 
USCWF. As has been illustrated, by the early 1970s, the ACWF knew 
perhaps better than anyone else of the presence of unsavory elements 
within the League. It seems inconceivable that they wouldn't have 
passed this information on to their fellow officers in the new USCWF. 

It certainly wasn't because the World Anti-Communist League 
had changed. In 1981, the Eastern European Nazis were still a major 
power bloc. The Tecos in Mexico were still a dominant force. The 
Unification Church still controlled the Japanese chapter. All that had 
really changed was that, through the admission of the Saudi-domi- 
nated Middle East Security Council, the League had become even 
more anti-Semitic and anti-Israeli, and that the Latin American chap- 
ters were now killing people with their death squads, whereas they 
has been mostly only talking about it before. 

The USCWF's tolerance isn't that surprising, for along with re- 
spectable conservatives and former military and intelligence officers, 
it could count among its members some who quietly supported neo- 
fascism. Anthony Bouscaren, for example, in the 1960s had worked 
for Wycliffe Draper's Pioneer Fund, which sought to prove that 
blacks are genetically inferior to whites, and was still publishing ar- 
ticles in Roger Pearson's Journal for Social, Political and Economic Studies 
in 1982, four years after The Washington Post had exposed Pearson's 



154 



background. In 1977, Lieutenant General Graham had been a guest 
speaker at a meeting of the League's executive committee at the in- 
vitation of Pearson. 

Then there were the USCWF's Canadian brethren in the North 
American Regional World Anti-Communist League (NARWACL). 
The Canadian League chapter, the Freedom Council of Canada, is 
controlled by Ron Gostick and Patrick Walsh, both officers of the 
anti-Semitic (nongovernmental) Canadian Intelligence Service, with 
Walsh doubling as the Canadian correspondent for the historical re- 
visionist Liberty Lobby in the United States. Whatever repugnance 
the officers of the United States Council for World Freedom may feel 
for the Canadian chapter's activities, it has not been sufficient to 
dissuade their meeting with them in annual NARWACL confer- 
ences. Nor did the rabid anti-Semitism of Mexican Teco Professor 
Rafael Rodriguez prevent their inviting him to be a main speaker at 
the second NARWACL conference in 1982. 

Officers of the United States Council for World Freedom have also 
actively supported the organizations of the Eastern European Nazi 
collaborators independendy of their joint participation in the World 
Anti-Communist League. General Singlaub was a guest speaker at an 
Anti-Bolshevik Bloc of Nations conference in London in 1982 and 
visited its headquarters in Munich. Lev Dobriansky, Reagan's am- 
bassador to the Bahamas, wrote a laudatory— and totally inaccurate- 
history of the Ukrainian Insurgent Army that was published by ABN 
Correspondence in October 1982. Albert Koen and Jay Parker spoke at 
an ABN-sponsored seminar in Canada in 1983, and in 1984, retired 
General Daniel O. Graham held a joint seminar with the ABN in 
Canada on "The High Frontier [Star Wars] and a New Strategy for 
the West." In 1985, they also joined various Eastern European emigre 
groups in attacking the Office of Special Investigations of the Justice 
Department, the branch engaged in prosecuting alleged Nazi war 
criminals residing in the United States. In a telephone conversation 
with one of the authors, General Singlaub warned that much of the 
OSI's information came from the Soviet Union, "and I don't think 
we should take much stock in material supplied by the KGB." 3 

One might draw from this that the new American chapter shares 
the goals and sentiments of their notorious fellow League members, 
but this would probably be wrong. Rather, the USCWF sees the 
League as a vehicle to further implement its own international 



'55 



agenda. If there are anti-Semites, war criminals, and death squad 
leaders within the association, such unpleasantries have to be over- 
looked for the greater goal. 

For the World Anti-Communist League, the new American chap- 
ter was a boon, revitalizing a federation plagued by deep schisms, 
jealousies, and unfavorable press coverage throughout the world. 
Starting in 1981, the League could look forward to new vigor. Under 
the tutelage of General Singlaub, it was no longer to be an organi- 
zation that would "eat, meet and retreat"; it could now put its plans 
into concrete action. At the meeting at Mountain Shadow, the World 
Anti-Communist League had reached into the heart of American con- 
servatism and found a group of powerful American leaders who 
wanted action. If their memberships in other New Right organiza- 
tions are taken together, the officers of the United States Council for 
World Freedom gave the World Anti-Communist League a voice in 
all the major coalitions of the American New Right movement. Most 
of these other New Right organizations would go on to assist the 
USCWF, and by extension the League, in joint operations in Central 
America. They would also act as unofficial envoys of the Reagan 
Administration in establishing links with ultra-rightists in Guate- 
mala, El Salvador, and Honduras. 

WESTERN GOALS 

Operating out of a quaint townhouse in Alexandria, Virginia's 
colonial Old Town, Western Goals seeks to keep track of "subver- 
sives" in the United States. It was the brainchild of Representative 
John P. McDonald, the late chairman of the John Birch Society, who 
once described Martin Luther King, Jr., as a man "wedded to vio- 
lence." Until his death aboard Korean Air Lines flight 007 in Septem- 
ber 1983, McDonald watched Western Goals grow dramatically. 
Today, Western Goals carries on its business; the martyred Mc- 
Donald's office within the townhouse is preserved as something of 
a shrine. To his fellow ultra-rightists, McDonald was "the first vic- 
tim of World War Three." 

Established in 1979, Western Goals brought together a whole 
range of rightists who lamented the passing of domestic surveillance 
of "subversives." Among its primary sponsors are Nelson Bunker 
Hunt, the Texas billionaire who made an unsuccessful bid to corner 



156 



the international silver market in 1982. On the advisory board are 
General Singlaub and another member of the United States Council 
for World Freedom, Anthony Kubek. In Western Goals they are in 
the company of conservative congressmen (Bob Stump ; R- Arizona, 
and Philip Crane ; R-Illinois), retired high-ranking military officers 
(Admiral Thomas Moorer ; General Raymond Davis ; General Lewis 
Walt, and General George S. Patton III), and such McCarthy-era 
luminaries as redbaiting lawyer Roy Cohn. 

Western Goals is open about its mission: it seeks a return to the 
internal surveillance practices of the 1950s. One of its "documen- 
tary" films ; The Subversion Factor, details the internal security problems 
that in their view have beset the United States since the late 1950s. 
It also operates a weekly radio program that is carried by over sev- 
enty stations throughout the country and publishes a newsletter and 
such monographs as D'Aubuisson on Democracy and The War Called 
Peace, "a startling account of those who are actually financing the 
nuclear freeze movement." 

Not content to merely pine for the past and lament the present, 
Western Goals has a plan and the means to implement it. 

In the field of Marxists, terrorism and subversion, Western Goals has 
the most experienced advisors and staff in the United States. Acting 
on the advice of these nationally known professionals, the Foundation 
has begun the computerization of thousands of documents relating to 
the internal security of our country and the protection of government 
and institutions from Communist-controlled penetration and subver- 
sion. 4 

Such a programme hit a responsive chord among the New Right; 
from a modest budget in 1980, revenues increased over 500 percent 
the following year. According to the Goals ; s own records, 29 percent 
of this came from foundations, with another 14 percent from cor- 
porations. By 1983, it had an operating budget of nearly a half- 
million dollars. 

COUNCIL FOR THE DEFENSE OF FREEDOM 

Begun during the Korean War as the Council Against Communist 
Aggression, the Council for the Defense of Freedom (CDF) is a non- 
profit, tax-exempt organization based in Washington that is dedi- 
cated to the dissemination of information about the communist 



Library ojCMjytss 



Horia Sima (front row, fourth from right) with Chirita Ciuntu on his right, at 
fascist shrine in Spain, 4<?70. 



Chirita Ciuntu (second from right) with other North American Iron Guard 
leaders beside grave of deceased Guardist, 1972.. The tombstone is emblazoned 
with the Iron Guard Symbol 




..,ji.-r.j.' \>. (m, 



Library of Congress 

ABOVE LEFT German troops enter 
Lvov, Ukraine, on June SO, 4944. 
Stetsko becomes Ukrainian Premier on 
the same day, 

ABOVE Before the break: Romanian 
Iron Guard leader Horia Sitna {front 
left) alongside General A ntomscu at 
memorial service for Codreancu, 1940. 

LEFT Ukrainian Jews being rounded 
up for execution by German troops and 
Ukrainian collaborators, June 4944. 
Original German caption read: "A 
bullet is too good for these savage-tike 
Jews ..." 




\.|J|.T^V \l. hll. 



FAR LEFT yarcslav Sletsko, President of the A nti-Bokhevik Bloc of Nations 
and major leader of WACL. 

NEAR LEFT Siejpan Hefer, Ustashi Governor General, President of Croatian 
L ibtration Movement. 

BELOW left Ante Pavelic (left), Poglavnik of Croatian Ustashis, with Hitler, 
194Z. 

BELOW Before the bloodbath: Ustaski troops in Sarajevo, Yugoslavia, 1W. 




jif \r* few. 




\ 



\ 




ABOVE LEFT Chiang Kai-shek exhorting the troops during Sino-Japattese War. 
BELOW LEFT Chiang Kai-shek reviewing Kuomintang cadres, 
ABOVE Chiang Kai-shek opens the first WACL conference, 19&7. 

BELOW The partners; Chiang Kai-shek and South Korean President Park 
Chung Hee, 1<?66. Within months, WACL would be formed. 




RIGHT Taiwan s ruling 
elite: Premier Chiang 
Chin-Kuo (far left); 
WACL'sKuCheng-kang 
(far right). 

BELOW KuCheng-kang 
in a more somber mood, 
with Brazilian fascist 
leader Carlos Barbieri 
Filho (center) and W ACL 
Secretary General Woojae 
Seung (right). 





i [Km .-i i .-n,t. 



ABOVE RIGHT Ku Cheng-kang with farmer CIA Deputy Director Ray CHne. 
BELOW RIGHT Senator Jesse Helms of North Carolina and Ku Cheng-kang, 

BELOW Ku Cheng-kang with Ronald Reagan, 1977- 




ABOVE Swearing-in ceremony for new officers of the Feces, a Mexican secret 
society. 

RIGHT Former Major General John K. Singtaub (second from left) with the 
Nicaraguan contras in a Honduran base canty, if 8$. 

BELOW Stefan Possony addressing WACL conference. 




LEFT Mario Sandoval Alarcon, 
Guatemala's death-squad godfather, 
with his poodle Suki 



Honduran strongman General 
Gustavo Alvarez Martinez after his 
downfall 1984- 



Salvadoran Lieutenant Colonel 
Domingo Monteirosa, conducting 
Taiwan-style political warfare in 
countryside shortly before his death in 




Time !m. 




(Juries BMtMy, M Pictures 



Former National Guard Major Roberto D'Aubuisson, El Salvador' s ultra- 
rightist leader campaigning for the presidency, i 984- 

The death squads cross frontiers. Graffiti of D'Aubuisson' s Broad National 
Front (FAN) seen in Honduras. 




i57 



threat. Among its officers are members of the old American League 
chapter ; the ACWF (Fred Schwarz ; Reed Irvine ; Walter Judd ; Marx 
Lewis ; and Lev Dobriansky) ; as well as of the new USCWF in the 
person of the ubiquitous Stefan Possony. In 1982, the CDF created 
"country committees" on nations taken over by communists or wag- 
ing war with Soviet troops. They selected six countries— Afghani- 
stan, Angola, Cambodia, EI Salvador, Nicaragua, and Vietnam— and 
turned to other New Right leaders to serve on the respective boards 
of directors. For Angola, for example, they chose M. Stanton Evans 
(head of National Journalism Center, radio broadcaster for Western 
Goals, and author of books attacking alleged Marxist infiltration of 
the Catholic Church), Andy Messing (former executive director of 
the Conservative Caucus and now a member of the advisory board 
of the United States Council for World Freedom), and Helen White 
(member of the advisory board of Western Goals). The purpose of 
the CDF country committees was intended to be largely educational; 
this would soon be overshadowed by the USCWF ; s own far more 
aggressive international campaign. 

AMERICAN SECURITY COUNCIL 

Begun and originally financed by industrialists wanting back- 
ground checks done on employees, the American Security Council 
has grown to become one of the most powerful New Right private 
groups. Under its affiliate, the Coalition for Peace Through Strength 
(CPTS), it has drawn together some of the most influential elected 
officials and former military officers in the nation. Serving as CPTS 
cochairmen are the two top former military officers who head the 
United States Council for World Freedom, Singlaub and Graham, as 
well as retired Joint Chiefs of Staff Chairman Admiral Thomas 
Moorer of Western Goals. Among the organizations belonging to 
CPTS are, in addition to the United States Council for World Free- 
dom, such groups as the Bulgarian National Front, Inc. (created by 
Ivan Docheff, a Bulgarian fascist sentenced to death in absentia for 
war crimes), the Byelorussian American Committee (headed by John 
Kosiak, the SS engineer in Minsk during World War II who is 
wanted for war crimes in the Soviet Union), and the Slovak World 
Congress (cofounded by Josef Mikus, who is wanted for war crimes 
in Czechoslovakia). All of these groups are also members of the 
World Ami Communist League. 



158 



COUNCIL FOR INTER-AMERICAN SECURITY 

Both Singlaub and Anthony Bouscaren serve as advisers to the 
Council for Inter-American Security (CIS). Its chairman is Lieutenant 
General Gordon Sumner, Jr., former chairman of the Inter-American 
Defense Board and a special assistant to the secretary of state for 
Latin American affairs. The council, whose main recent function has 
been to refute charges of death squad involvement by the ultra-right 
in El Salvador and Guatemala, was founded in 1976 by Ronald 
Docksai, another former member of the American Council for World 
Freedom. Its executive vice-president is Lynn Bouchey, an active or- 
ganizer of the Unification Church's CAUSA operations in South and 
Central America. In the CIS, the World Anti-Communist League- 
especially its Latin American affiliates— gained a powerful friend in 
Washington; in 1980, Singlaub and Sumner traveled to Guatemala 
to tell the ultra-right government that help was on the way in the 
form of Ronald Reagan. 

CONSERVATIVE CAUCUS 

Created in 1975 by Howard Phillips and Richard Viguerie, the 
Conservative Caucus is another New Right organization having an 
interlocking directorate with the American chapter of the World Anti- 
Communist League. Both Phillips, the caucus chairman, and Andy 
Messing, its former executive director, are on the advisory board of 
the USCWF. John Singlaub has been active in caucus activities, in- 
cluding participating in a caucus defense strategy seminar in April 
1983. The caucus acts as an umbrella for "pro-life, pro-family" causes; 
officials of the Conservative Caucus were instrumental in the cam- 
paign to make the "death squad parties" of Central America palatable 
to the American public in the early 1980s. Most recently, Messing 
was a key middleman in the New Right campaign to channel private 
aid to the contras fighting the leftist Nicaraguan government. 

Although confusing, there is nothing untoward, and certainly 
nothing illegal, about this overlapping of directorates among the New 
Right organizations. Indeed, much the same thing occurs among lib- 
eral organizations. Affixing the names of prominent people to a let- 
terhead aids fund raising and gives readers the impression that the 
organization is in close contact with influential people. Often, when 
a prominent personality agrees to be an honorary chairman or serve 



159 



on the advisory board of a particular organization, this agreement is 
the extent of the relationship. He or she may participate in its annual 
meetings or give a speech at a seminar, but day-to-day involvement 
is likely to be nonexistent. That is not the case, however, with the 
individuals discussed here. 

Likewise, despite the grandiose names and the optimism of their 
stated goals, many politically oriented organizations spend most of 
their time dealing with the mundane matters of issuing press releases 
(which are ignored by the media), inserting articles into the back 
section of the Congressional Record (which no one reads), or organizing 
seminars (which no one attends). It can be safely assumed that an 
organization like Western Goals, with its mission "to rebuild and 
strengthen the political, economic and social structure of the United 
States and Western Civilization," effects far less legislation than, say, 
the American Association of Hot -Dip Galvanizers. 

But if one looks at the American legislative process for the effect 
of these ultra-right organizations, one is simply looking in the wrong 
place. These are people who have given up on the American system. 
They feel the democratic form of government is weighted against 
them. Congress is filled with obstructionists; the media is controlled 
by liberals; the government is dominated by leftists; and President 
Reagan isn't a "true conservative." It is time to act on their own; if 
they can't take over the government, they will create their own 
government, carry out their own foreign policy, and make their own 
allies throughout the world. Along with this, they will supply "free- 
dom fighters" abroad and compile dossiers on "subversives" at home. 

This New Right policy of pursuing its own agenda independent 
of any governmental constraints has expanded dramatically during 
the Reagan Administration, leading some to charge that it is being 
done with the president's approval. Certainly, the Reagan Adminis- 
tration has found it useful to use such groups at various times, but 
the alliance is a shaky one. In fact, probably the chief motivation for 
building the "New Right Government" was widespread dissatisfac- 
tion with Reagan among ultra-rightists and the realization that if 
they couldn't rely on Reagan, the most conservative president in the 
past fifty years, to pursue a foreign policy based on anti-communism, 
then they could rely on no one. Despite his 1980 campaign promises 
to "get tough" with the Soviets, he still made trade deals with them, 
still tolerated the existence of Castro's Cuba, and still kept aid to 



IbO 



anti-communist guerrillas in Afghanistan and Nicaragua at grossly 
inadequate levels. 

Reagan was the ultra-right's last, best hope; after him ; there is no 
one else who stands a reasonable chance of election who would 
pursue their policies. Consequently, if Reagan has "sold out," it is 
time to go it alone. 

This they have done. Despite the United States' scaled-back dip- 
lomatic relations with Taiwan, the American Council for World 
Freedom and its New Right allies see to it that the Kuomintang 
maintains and exerts its influence. Despite the cutoff of U.S. govern- 
ment military aid to the Nicaraguan contras fighting the Sandinista 
regime, the guerrillas are still receiving considerable amounts of sup- 
plies from private American conservative groups. Despite the grow- 
ing anti-apartheid sentiment among the American people and 
politicians of both parties, South Africa can still rely on New Right 
journalists, evangelists, and foundations to come to its defense. And 
despite curbs placed on the FBI that constrain it from routinely plac- 
ing leftists under surveillance, and despite the dismantling of such 
government agencies as the House Un-American Activities Commit- 
tee, the ultra-right keeps tabs on its "subversive" domestic opposition 
through private bodies like Western Goals. 

In all these causes, the United States Council for World Freedom 
has played a key role. Under its credo of the need for unconventional 
warfare, the new American League chapter has united frustrated 
rightists in the "total war ;; against communism, independent of the 
policies or limitations of the U.S. government. 

This "New Right Government" has not had completely smooth 
sailing. In 1984, the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) was in 
the process of suing the Los Angeles Police Department's Public Dis- 
order Intelligence Division (PDID), which had maintained files on 
such possible "enemies of the state" as the First Unitarian Church 
and the National Lawyers Guild, when the ACLU discovered that 
some PDID officers had removed files from their offices. One in 
particular, Jay Paul, was discovered to have had a garage full of PDID 
reports, which he had computerized and sent to Western Goals in 
Alexandria, Virginia. The foundation's executive director finally 
turned most of the documents over to a California grand jury after 
negotiating immunity from prosecution. 6 



464 



With its connections into the "New Right Government," the new 
American chapter of the World Anti-Communist League was able 
to play its own vital role in the growing challenge in Central Amer- 
ica. In Guatemala, El Salvador, and Honduras, General Singlaub's 
United States Council for World Freedom called for and initiated 
unconventional warfare on a level that the American government 
was unwilling or unable to do itself. 



FOURTEEN 



I admit that the MLN is the party of organized violence. 
Organized violence is vigor, just like organized color is sce- 
nery and organized sound is harmony. There is nothing wrong 
with organized violence; it is vigor and the MLN is a vig- 
orous movement, a vigorous party that bravely confronts all 
those seeking to subvert order in our country in order to throw 
us into the arms of a masked or unmasked left. 

■^Ceonei Sisniega Otero, 

MLN Public Relation Director, 1980 

' *HtR name is Suki/ ; the old man rasped, patting the poodle 
on its head. "This is the newest Suki. When one dies, we get another 
and name it Suki ; too." 

Mario Sandoval Alarcon smiled at the little dog, as did the others 
in the room. It might have been a touching scene if it weren ; t for 
the fact that most of the men in the room were cradling snub-nose 
machine guns and that the old man with the poodle was the mas- 
termind of his nation ; s death squads, which have killed tens of thou- 
sands of people in the past two decades. 

The armed men surrounding Sandoval were not his bodyguards— 
they were either in the yard or on the roof of the fortress home with 
sharpshooter rifles— but were rather the political advisers of the Na- 
tional Liberation Movement (MLN), the political party that Sandoval 
took over in the 1950s and continues to head. 

Called "Mico" ("Monkey") by his friends and followers, Sandoval 



163 



is still a stout and burly man and a commanding presence on the 
Guatemalan political scene. He recently campaigned for yet another 
try at the presidency. "Mico is the future of Guatemala/' a misty- 
eyed supporter says. * 

He is also the past. As head of the MLN ; Sandoval is a principal 
architect of his nation's twenty-year reign of terror. Under his guid- 
ance ; the MLN and its death squads are accused of murdering thou- 
sands of fellow Guatemalans, including hundreds of Christian 
Democrat politicians; dozens of liberal priests, and even a Miss Gua- 
temala beauty queen. 

Mario Sandoval Alarcon is known by a number of labels. By his 
comrades in the World Anti-Communist League ; he is called one of 
the world's pre-eminent anti -communist fighters. Others call him a 
fascist. "I could perhaps accept the label of Fascist/' Sandoval told a 
French reporter in 1981, "in the historical sense of the word were it 
not for the fact that it refers to a type of socialism, albeit national 
socialism." 1 

To his detractors in Guatemala, he is known as "Darth Vader/' 
due to the throat cancer that necessitates that he speak in a robotic 
tone with the aid of an electronic box. It is another nickname, how- 
ever, that most reveals the pivotal role the old man has played in the 
bloody history of Central America. 

For Sandoval has not been content to carry out his murderous 
campaigns solely in Guatemala; in the early 1980s he helped erect 
the same lethal apparatus in El Salvador and Honduras. Sandoval's 
assistance to others in the international "anti-communist" struggle 
and his concrete plan of action have won him the awed respect and 
admiration from death squad leaders throughout Central America. 
To them he is "The Godfather." 

Guatemala is the most exotic of the Central American republics. 
A tropical land of jungles, shimmering mountain lakes, and high 
volcanoes, it is a place where unexcavated Mayan ruins jut up from 
the jungle floor and where the indigenous Indians have retained much 
of their pre-Columbian culture. In their bright dress, they still pray 
to their ancient animist gods along with the "new" Jesus Christ. 

'Sandoval lost the November 1985 election and the current Guatemalan presi- 
dent Is Christian Democrat Vinlclo Cerezo. 



164 



If it is a land of dreams, Guatemala is also a land of nightmares. 
No other country in the Western hemisphere approaches the level of 
brutality that is a way of life here. One might compare it with Idi 
Amines Uganda or Pol Pot's Cambodia, except that the pogroms in 
Guatemala have gone on for far longer. It is a place of total war, 
where a scorched-earth policy has been pursued for so long that, of 
all Central America's war-torn republics, it is the one that evokes the 
most horror and disbelief in observers, from the foreign press, from 
the diplomatic community, and from the Guatemalans themselves.* 

Guatemala is a land that appears to be caught in a series of time 
warps. For the Indian peasants, tilling their tiny plots of land and 
living in hamlets without electricity or running water, time has stood 
still, perhaps even regressed, since the time of their Mayan ancestors. 
Economically, Guatemala exists in a system akin to medieval feu- 
dalism; the middle class is embryonic, and the masses, living in abject 
poverty, work to provide fantastic wealth for a handful of families. 
Politically, it is a land where the large landowners live much as their 
thirteenth-century European predecessors did, complete with private 
armies and a partnership with the military to protect their hold on 
the nation. They keep the peasants under their control through ter- 
ror, organize them into vigilante bands, and mobilize them to sup- 
port their patrones in elections. 

"The problem," a conservative former Guatemalan general ex- 
plains, "is the whole structure of the government. It doesn't much 
matter whether the government is civilian or military because the 
power always is with the military and the military supports the 
oligarchs. There are no legal channels of expression and, thus, no 
consensus of what democracy means. To the finqueros [large coffee 
plantation owners] it means free enterprise, a continuation of the 
oligarchy, not the right to vote or form labor unions. These people 
live in a different era, maybe of a 100 or 150 years ago." 

Asked how this system could be changed, the ex-general reflected. 
"The only way," he finally replied, "is to stage a coup. Then you 
call together all the generals, all the oligarchs, the three hundred men 
who really run the country, by telling them this is going to be a 

*It has also given rise to a certain perverse kind of humor. Guatemalans of all 
political stripes still tell— and laugh about— the story of the landowner who awoke 
one morning to find twenty-six bodies dumped on his farm. When he called 
the police, he was cited for operating a private cemetery without a license. 



165 



truly anti-communist government. When you have them all in one 
room, you kill them. If you want change in Guatemala, you must 
kill those 300 people." 

There are many seemingly innocent things a Guatemalan might 
do that will cause him or her to come to the attention of a soldier, 
police officer, or informant, and then a death squad. Enrolling in a 
night class, digging a well so that a village can have clean drinking 
water, teaching philosophy— Guatemalans have been murdered for 
all these "subversive" acts. 

"The victims," Allan Nairn, an American reporter, wrote, trying 
to define some parameters for the killings, "are typically students, 
priests, labor leaders, journalists, teachers, peasant activists and mem- 
bers and leaders of moderate opposition parties." 2 

"You can't fuck around in Guatemala," a Salvadoran rightist 
warned one of the authors. "They don't even know what human 
rights are. You talk social change to these people and they point the 
finger at you and that's it. And if you want to get rid of someone, 
all you have to do is go down to the right office of the Armed Forces, 
the Special Operations Command, and denounce someone. You do 
that and the job is done. You don't need a lot of proof." 

And they are not subtle. On October 18, 1978, the Secret Anti- 
Communist Army (ESA) issued a death list to the press of Guate- 
mala. On the list was Oliverio Castaneda de Leon, president of the 
Association of University Students. Three days later, on a busy street 
in downtown Guatemala City, Castaneda was gunned down by ma- 
chine-gun fire from a passing car bearing official license plates. As he 
lay dying on the sidewalk, gunmen in three more cars and on a 
motorcycle passed by to administer the coups de grice. 

Yet with few exceptions, Guatemala has been able to dodge world 
attention and condemnation. Little is regularly heard outside Guate- 
mala about the continuing slaughter. One reason may be the lack of 
an overt American presence, which is apparently a necessity to in- 
terest U.S. readers. Or perhaps it is in part due to a guilty conscience, 
for much of Guatemala's current strife is directly traceable to Amer- 
ican involvement there in the 1950s. In fact, most of those respon- 
sible, including Mario Sandoval Alarcon and his MLN, were nurtured 
and first given prominence by the CIA. 

In the early 1950s, left-leaning Guatemalan President Jacobo Ar- 
benz Guzman became a target of the Eisenhower Administration, 



166 



which accused the government of being pro-communist. These 
charges reached a fever pitch when the Arbenz regime nationalized 
the railroads and an Atlantic coast port, both of which belonged to 
the powerful American United Fruit Company, the largest land- 
owner in Guatemala. Much as it assists the Nicaraguan contras to- 
day, the CIA organized a ragtag Guatemalan exile force in Honduras. 
The final spark came when Guatemala bought arms from the Soviet 
satellite Czechoslovakia, "proof" that Arbenz* had joined the com- 
munist camp. 

The CIA-sponsored paramilitary force invaded, calling itself "the 
Army of Liberation," with cashiered Colonel Carlos Castillo Armas 
playing the part of "liberator." After marching into Guatemala and 
forcing out Arbenz, Castillo Armas organized his followers in what 
became the official government party, the Nationalist Democratic 
Movement (MDN). 

The 1954 invasion was the event which launched Mario Sandoval 
Alarcon into the political arena. An active Castillo Armas supporter, 
Sandoval was awarded for his efforts following the coup with a post 
as the liberator's personal secretary. It was the beginning of his ascen- 
dancy as the nation's premier anti-communist. 

On July 12, 1954, which was proclaimed "Anti-communism 
Day," Castillo Armas exhorted his countrymen to militancy. 

Communism . . . has been completely destroyed by the force of arms. 
But communism still remains in the conscience of some bad sons of 
our Guatemala. . . . The battle has begun, the hard battle that requires 
us to demand each citizen to be a soldier of anti-communism. . . . To 
eradicate communism does not signify to persecute the worker and 
the honest peasant who in every case merits the protection of the 
government. . . . Workers and peasants have in me their best 
friend. . . . My unshakeable spirit of justice will be their greatest guar- 
antee. 3 

•Evidence suggests that Arbenz wasn't the democratic martyr many liberals 
have tried to portray him as being. He won the presidency in 1952 after his 
principal opponent was assassinated. Among those implicated in the murder 
were close Arbenz associates, including the chauffeur of Arbenz's wife. If the 
assassination was conducted without Arbenz's approval, it was certainly done 
for his benefit. 



167 



Castillo Armas's guarantees aside, 1954 marked the end of Gua- 
temala's democracy and the beginning of its long descent into gov- 
ernment-sanctioned terror. 

When Castillo Armas was assassinated in his palace in 1957, the 
radical right faction of his followers formed the MLN. Sandoval 
emerged as the new party's strongman. Leonel Sisniega Otero ; who 
had been one of Castillo Armas's propagandists in his clandestine 
preinvasion radio broadcasts and who would later give the MLN the 
label "the party of organized violence/' became Sandoval's righthand 
man. In keeping with its political outlook, the MLN adopted a sym- 
bol from the Middle Ages— the sword and the cross. 

With the MLN, Sandoval and Sisniega carried on the anti-com- 
munist battle that Castillo Armas had demanded; they soon got the 
chance to put their campaign into action. 

In I960, some junior army officers, disgruntled over governmental 
corruption, staged a mutiny. When it failed, the rebels took to the 
hills of the eastern Zacapa farmlands to continue the fight. It was 
the beginning of the Guatemalan guerrilla war that is still being 
waged today. 

In 1966, Colonel Carlos Arana Osorio was put in charge of sup- 
pressing the insurgency in Zacapa. Although the fledgling guerrilla 
"army" was estimated to consist of only a few hundred men, they 
were hard to track in the hills. Arana turned to someone he knew 
could help. 

By the time of the Zacapa rebellion, Sandoval had begun to create 
a political paramilitary network in Guatemala in emulation of the 
Kuomintang model in Taiwan. To Colonel Arana, it was just what 
was needed in Zacapa. 

With support from the military, the MLN appointed party mem- 
bers and recruited former soldiers who were loyal to MLN aims as 
jefes politicos (political chiefs) in villages throughout the country. The 
jefes kept track of anyone who had "subversive" tendencies. Those 
tendencies could be manifested in a variety of ways, from genuine 
support for the guerrillas to holding anti-MLN views, or they could 
simply stem from a personal dispute with the jefes. Whatever the 
reason, the result was almost always the same: those who ran afoul 
of the jefes were brought to "justice" either by the MLN's paramili- 
tary groups or by the army or both; their deaths were attributed to 
the mysterious La Mano Rlanca (The White Hand). 



168 



The existence of this network was admitted to in 1985 by an 
American diplomat stationed in Guatemala. 

The MLN has always been fervently, violently anti-communist. A 
lot of the supporters of the MLN were probably members of those 
[1960s paramilitary] groups. These are the historical origins of the 
death squads that you hear of. 4 

In the late 1960s the MLN expanded into urban areas, directing 
its attacks at students, teachers, and anyone associated with the Ar- 
benz government who had foolishly remained in the country. One 
operation attributed to the MLN was the abduction of conservative 
Guatemalan Archbishop Mario Casariegos. The archbishop was 
eventually released, and he identified his captors as top MLN officials. 
The apparent motive for his abduction was a scheme to blame the 
kidnapping on leftist guerrillas to justify an increased MLN role in 
the government's campaign of suppression of dissidents. 

The embarrassing incident with the archbishop taught the MLN 
an important lesson: don't release victims. From that time on, only 
a handful of those picked up by La Mano Blanca would ever be seen 
alive again. 

The archbishop episode didn't do much damage to Sandoval, for 
he came under the protective embrace of a rising military officer. 
With the help of Sandoval's vigilante bands and with the secret as- 
sistance of U.S. Special Forces pilots and Green Beret advisers, Colo- 
nel Arana Osorio had crushed the insurgency in Zacapa. In the 
process, he had killed between three and ten thousand and had won 
the nickname "The Butcher of Zacapa." While the label might have 
had an adverse reaction upon an officer's career elsewhere, this wasn't 
the case in Guatemala; promoted to general and hailed as a war hero, 
Arana ran for president in 1970 and won. 

In gratitude to the man who had helped launch him to promi- 
nence and whose MLN party had backed his presidential bid, Arana 
named Sandoval president of the National Congress. 

With Arana's ascension to the presidency and Sandoval's polit- 
ical legitimacy in Congress, the Taiwan model had been recreated 
in Guatemala. The political party with its intelligence network and 
its death squads had helped out the military in a moment of crisis. 
Out of that initial alliance, the party, or at least the paramilitary 
functions of it, had become institutionalized into the military. And 



469 



since the military also ran the country ; it meant that the death 
squads were now sanctioned by the government and were in fact 
a branch of it. 

"People ask if the death squads are controlled by the Army." A 
Guatemalan political analyst smiled grimly. "They are the army. 
Look ; in 1982 ; Rios Montt [then president of Guatemala] said he 
was committed to ending the paramilitary killing. He gave the word 
to the Army and, literally overnight, the killing stopped. How do 
you think that happened? Do you think the death squads received 
flyers in the mail? No ; the death squads stayed in their barracks." 

"My personal experience/' a former Guatemalan general said ; 
"was that when the Army said no ; there were no paramilitary 
groups. AJI the groups were run by the same people. I think the 
regular Army ; the junior officers ; were against these groups ; but the 
higher officers were in control of them so nothing could be done." 

The economist agreed to talk only after receiving an assurance of 
anonymity; Guatemala City was still a very dangerous place to speak 
out in 1985. In the week of the interview ; two university professors 
had been murdered on the street by gunmen in passing cars. Several 
human rights advocates had also been kidnapped ; tortured, and mu- 
tilated. The economist, himself a miraculous survivor of the violence 
that has claimed the lives of dozens of his friends and colleagues over 
the past twenty years ; said that it was in 1970 ; during Sandoval's 
tenure as president of the National Congress, when the rightist death 
squads began operating openly and with impunity. High MLN offi- 
cials not only orchestrated their "hits" but participated in them. 
"Oliveiro Castaneda, the vice-president of Congress under Sandoval, 
was also a top MLN leader. He personally led some of the [Guate- 
mala] City death squads." 

The economist knew two of Castaneda's victims. After their ab- 
ductions, he obtained testimony from their wives, and they identified 
Castaneda as the leader of the gangs that had abducted the men. One 
was killed; the other was saved when a relative in the army heard 
of his capture and obtained his release. That victim now lives in 
exile in Mexico and has identified Castaneda as one of his "interro- 
gators." 

Elections held in 1974 brought "Mico" to even greater heights of 
power. Although the Christian Democrat candidate, General Efrafn 



170 



RJos Montt, won, Sandoval mobilized his vigilantes to prevent the 
victory. 

"We won it," said Luis Martinez Montt, a Christian Democrat 
official, "but we made the mistake of choosing RJos Montt as our 
candidate. When Sandoval organized his army of thirty-five thou- 
sand peasants, who threatened to march on the city and set off dy- 
namite, RJos Montt went to an exile post in Spain instead of standing 
up against the military. We should have known he [Montt] wouldn't 
go against his own institution." 

Instead, Colonel Kjell Laugerud Schell, the handpicked candidate 
of outgoing President Arana, took power. Sandoval Alarcon was 
named his vice-president. " 'Mico' is a violent man/ 7 Luis Martinez 
continued, "who believes in . . . force to shut those up who don't 
share his points of view." 5 

It was a brave statement for the Christian Democrat to make; over 
350 of his party's officials have been murdered in the past decade; 
most of them they blame on Sandoval's MLN. 

During the Laugerud-Sandoval administration from 1974 to 1978, 
the right-wing death squads ran rampant. "Great clandestine ceme- 
teries began appearing in the country, mass common graves," an 
opposition politician who is still in Guatemala said. "The govern- 
ment said it was the work of the guerrillas. It wasn't the guerrillas' 
work. This was the work of Sandoval," he spat, stressing each syl- 
lable of the MLN leader's name. 

It was also during Sandoval's tenure as vice-president that closer 
ties to Taiwan were forged. "Sandoval went to Taiwan while he 
was vice-president," a former government minister said, "and he 
brought them in. If you want to trace the Taiwanese presence here, 
you can begin in 1974 [when Sandoval was vice-president]." 

Through his leadership role in the Latin American Anti-Commu- 
nist Confederation and in the World Anti-Communist League, San- 
doval made numerous trips to Taiwan, where he was feted by the 
Kuomintang leaders. Quietly, Guatemalan officers, an estimated fifty 
to seventy, were sent to Taiwan to receive training in political war- 
fare. 

The courses at Peitou, which were taught in Spanish, met Gua- 
temalan educational requirements for military advancement; majors 
that went to Taiwan returned as lieutenant colonels. Even as their 
Guatemalan armed forces salaries continued, Taiwan picked up most 



171 



if not all of their air fare and living expenses while they were in 
Taiwan. 

The Peitou training also benefited Sandoval politically. Although 
those sent were drawn from all branches of the military, final ap- 
proval for their selection was made by G-2, or military intelligence. 
Since this was a branch of the military largely operated by MLN 
members or Sandoval followers, it ensured that those sent were men 
who approved of the "party of organized violence." Upon their re- 
turn and promotion, Sandoval was able to build support throughout 
the military. 

The key Guatemalan officer in this Taiwanese-Sandoval influence 
operation in the early 1970s was Colonel Elias Ramirez. In charge 
of security for the Guatemala City region, Ramirez was the liaison 
to the Nationalist Chinese Embassy personnel in Guatemala who 
organized the officers' groups going to Taiwan. He was also one of 
the commanders of the capital's death squads, which apparently is 
why the guerrillas killed him in 1976. 

For the Kuomintang, the program was a positive one in that it 
predisposed the Guatemalan military to conform to its wishes. Fran- 
cisco Villagran-Kramer, Guatemala's vice-president in the late 1970s, 
recalls trying to forge greater ties with the People's Republic of China 
through trade deals: 

Negotiations were going well. We had a commitment from the [main- 
land] Chinese on the particulars of the trade deal and then, all of a 
sudden, it was killed. I checked around why and I found out that a 
lot of the generals had voiced disapproval about it. They did not want 
to do anything that might offend the Taiwanese. 6 

The "Guatemalan Kuomintang" had exerted its quiet influence. 

The reign of Laugerud and Sandoval was a time of terror in Gua- 
temala. It became commonplace to see plainclothesmen with machine 
guns cruising the streets in Jeeps bearing no license plates. 'The Cham- 
ber of Commerce," a Guatemalan exile charged, "would ask its mem- 
bers for a list of those it wanted to hit. The leaders would send the list 
on to the G-2 or to the police chief [Chupina Barahona]." 

The exile holds a special resentment for the Chamber of Com- 
merce death squad; he believes it was they who murdered his polit- 
ically active and prominent brother. 



i7l 

It was the Chamber of Commerce that ordered it. At the meeting 
were [Police Chief Colonel] Chupina and [Army Chief of Staff Gen- 
eral] Cancinos [Barrios]. Afterwards, they all sent condolences and 
flowers to the funeral. One of them told me, "It is really too bad 
about [name deleted]. It was a difficult decision for us to make, but 
he had become a subversive." That is how I know they did it. 

The mass killings in Guatemala were viewed with repugnance by 
the new American president, Jimmy Carter. He immediately began 
criticizing the Laugerud government for its gross human rights vio- 
lations and warned of trade sanctions if they continued. 

But the Guatemalan government would not be cowed; in 1977, 
the Laugerud regime beat Carter to the punch and canceled all its 
military assistance programs from the United States. With other al- 
lies, like Taiwan, and other arms suppliers, like Israel, Laugerud was 
no longer beholden to the United States. 

The Guatemalan vice-president shared this smug appraisal. "We 
don't have any problem with Carter," an associate recalls Sandoval 
saying. "Our problem is to kill two hundred communists a week." 

Despite his bravado, Sandoval's power went through a temporary 
setback in 1978; he had to temporarily divert his attention from 
killing "communists" to keeping his MLN afloat. "While he was in 
the Congress and then vice-president, Mico had no shortage of money 
to finance his private army/' one source said, "but in the 1978 elec- 
tions, he lost out by backing the wrong candidate. He went against 
the will of the armed forces. Their candidate was General [Romeo] 
Lucas Garcia." 

In the Guatemalan tradition, election results were manipulated so 
that Lucas Garcia "won." Now in the opposition, Sandoval turned 
to Mafialike tactics to get financing. "He authorized the leaders of 
his bands to obtain funds by robbery and kidnappings/' says a 
wealthy Guatemalan politician who knows the MLN chief well. 
"He would send death threats, supposedly from the guerrillas, to the 
rich fhqueros [coffee growers] and the next day, either Leonel [Sis- 
niega] or Raul [Midence Pivaral, Sandoval's brother-in-law] would 
collect the money. 

"It was a joke for a while at the sporting club I and a lot of these 
farmers belonged to. They used to say to each other; 'Have you 
solved your problem with the guerrillas yet?' and the answer would 
be, 'Yes, Sisniega paid me a visit.' " 



Through this campaign, directed at the same wealthy landowners 
who were the MLN's source of strength, Sandoval alienated many 
of his potential backers within the ruling elite. His monolithic MLN 
broke into smaller parties; these splits at least partly resulted from 
the dissension over the party's new targets of violence. 

Sandoval fought this dissolution in a way familiar to him. The 
same politician recalled a conversation with the right-wing patriarch: 
"One day ; 'Mico' told me that the problem with the liberal parties 
is that they can't control their followers. He then said, 1 do. I either 
buy them or I kill them. They know it and that's why they obey 
me." 7 

And kill them he did. According to several Guatemalan analysts, 
Sandoval's efforts to remain the top ultra-right leader in the nation 
led to the deaths of many MLN leaders at the hands of their former 
comrades. Among the murders cited were those of Oliverio Casta- 
neda, Sandoval's former second-in-command in the National Con- 
gress, and Raul Lorenzo, one of the party leaders implicated in 
Archbishop Casariegos' abduction. 

Sandoval also turned his attention outward. Blocked from attain- 
ing power in his own country after his vice-presidential term was 
over, he attempted to strengthen his power base by "international- 
izing" the MLN through a network that one Guatemalan politician 
called "the international anti-communist union." 

"In the [late] 1970s/' a conservative Guatemalan journalist recalls, 
"Sandoval sought help from abroad. He got it, too ; principally from 
Taiwan. The MLN's leaders go there with frequency, where they 
get advice in psychological warfare and money. Right-wing groups 
in the United States and Europe do the same." What the journalist 
was referring to was the World Anti-Communist League network. 

As head of the Guatemalan chapter, Sandoval had stacked his 
nation's delegations to League functions with MLN officials, includ- 
ing Carlos Midence Pivaral, his nephew, and Hector Andrade, his 
secretary. As one of the Latin American Anti-Communist Confed- 
eration's leaders, Sandoval had forged close ties with like-minded 
military governments and with rightist groups abroad. Chief among 
them were the military regimes in Taiwan, Paraguay, Argentina, and 
Chile, and New Right groups in the United States. 

These allies continued to serve Sandoval and the MLN after 1978. 
It was through his affiliations with the World Anti-Communist 



174 



League that Sandoval helped create a "death squad party" in EI Sal- 
vador—a mirror image of the MLN— and remained the undisputed 
capo di capos in the Latin American netherworld of the ultra-right. 

It was also these allies, especially the American New Right, that 
"rehabilitated" Guatemala in general, and Sandoval in particular, in 
1979. 

By 1979, the Guatemalan death squads were claiming ever-greater 
numbers of victims. Actions were directed by the army and by Police 
Chief Colonel German Chupina Barahona, under orders from Presi- 
dent Lucas Garcia, Interior Minister Colonel Donald Alvarez Ruiz,* 
and a group of top-ranking generals. Private businessmen met regu- 
larly to compile lists of those they wanted dead and passed the rosters 
on to the government. In return, the businessmen provided part of 
the payroll. 

Despite this campaign of institutionalized murder, conservative 
groups in the United States, sensing a Ronald Reagan victory in 
1980, rose to defend the Guatemalan government. "The policy of 
the Carter Administration," retired General Gordon Sumner told re- 
porter Allan Nairn, "is to destabilize the Lucas government and 
there's no excuse for it. That is a government that was elected by 
the people." 7 

In December 1979, a delegation from the American Security 
Council went to Guatemala. At the head of the delegation were 
retired generals John Singlaub and Daniel Graham, both of whom 
would soon become the top officials of the American chapter of the 
World Anti-Communist League. There was no ambiguity in their 
message; in an audience with President Lucas Garcia, Graham prom- 
ised that he would urge Reagan, once elected, to resume military ties 
with Guatemala. 

The ASC trip helped confirm the Guatemalan ultra-right's darkest 
suspicions about the Carter Administration. The editor of the Gua- 
temala City daily, El Impartial, "reported in his column that the Sing- 
laubGraham delegation from the ASC 'is convinced that the State 
Department and White House are infiltrated with elements abetting 
subversion in this part of the world, and probably in others as well.' " 

But it also gave them hope. "One high Guatemalan official who 



'Ruiz now lives in Miami and runs a taxi company. 



175 



met with Singlaub and Graham, and who later discussed the impli- 
cations of the visit with his government and military colleagues, said 
that the message was clear. First, 'Mr. Reagan recognizes that a good 
deal of dirty work has to be done. ; . . . The Reagan aides' advice and 
supportive comments were the talk of official Guatemala for days 
after their visit." 8 Within days after the Singlaub-Graham visit, the 
level of death squad actions in Guatemala increased dramatically. 

In a telephone interview with Allan Nairn, Singlaub defended his 
Guatemalan trip. "Singlaub said that he was 'terribly impressed' at 
how the Lucas regime was 'desperately trying to promote human 
rights' and lamented the fact that 'as the [Guatemalan] government 
loses support from the United States, it gives the impression to the 
people that there's something wrong with their government.' Sing- 
laub urged sympathetic understanding of the death squads, arguing 
that the Carter Administration's unwillingness to back the Lucas re- 
gime in its elimination of its enemies 'is prompting those who are 
dedicated to retaining the free enterprise system and to continuing 
progress toward political and economic development to take matters 
in their own hands.' " 9 

The Singlaub-Graham expedition was followed by many more in 
1980. Dozens of American New Right leaders— including officials 
from Young Americans for Freedom, the Heritage Foundation, and 
the Moral Majority, and such New Right activists as Howard Phillips 
of the Conservative Caucus— went to Guatemala on "fact-finding" 
missions. Roger Fontaine, the director of Latin American studies at 
the Center for Strategic and International Studies at Georgetown Uni- 
versity, made at least two 1980 trips to Guatemala. "It's pretty clear/' 
he told The Miami Herald in July 1980, "that [after a Reagan victory] 
Guatemalans will be given what aid they need in order to defend 
themselves against an armed minority which is aided and abetted by 
Cubans." 

On the Guatemalan end, the public relations campaign was led by 
Roberto Alejos Arzu, a wealthy ultra-rightist who had made one of 
his plantations available to the CIA as a staging ground for the ill- 
fated Bay of Pigs invasion of Cuba in 1961; he was a principal leader 
of his nation's "Reagan for President" bandwagon. 10 Funds were 
made available for the Reagan presidential bid both from Americans 
in Guatemala and from the Guatemalan oligarchy. Although the con- 
tributions from foreign nationals were never disclosed by the Reagan 



176 



campaign, it was an open secret in Guatemala. "Sure," a Guatemalan 
exile told one of the authors, "everyone was giving money to Rea- 
gan. Everyone was bragging about how much they gave." 

A more overt source of funding for the Republican presidential 
campaign came through Amigos del Pais (Friends of the Country). A 
lobbying group established by wealthy Guatemalans, Amigos del Pais 
retained a public relations firm for eleven thousand dollars a month 
to carry their cause in the United States. It was probably not coin- 
cidental that the firm they chose was Deaver and Hannaford, the 
heads of which would both occupy high governmental posts after 
Reagan's victory in November. 

Amigos del Pais also hosted a visit of U.S. congressional staffers 
to Guatemala. One of the participants was Belden Bell, coordinator 
of Reagan ; s foreign policy advisory committee, who concluded that 
"it is in the best interests of the United States, as well as Guatemala, 
to throw our national support behind this beleaguered country." 

It appeared there might be a hitch in this campaign when Elias 
Barahona, the former press secretary to the Guatemalan interior min- 
ister, held a press conference from his Panamanian exile in September 
1980. Revealing he actually had been a guerrilla "mole," Barahona 
laid bare the extent to which the Lucas government ran the death 
squads; he even named the fourth floor of the National Palace annex 
as the operations center and furnished the addresses of government 
safehouses and interrogation centers where prisoners were tortured 
and killed. Barahona further claimed that Sandoval had worked for 
the CIA and that Colonel Alvarez Ruiz, the interior minister, was 
in contact with CIA agents in Guatemala and Mexico. 

The exile's charges against Sandoval were interesting since at that 
moment the MLN leader was acting as the liaison in a covert pro- 
gram to bring Argentine advisers and Argentine-trained Nicaraguan 
rightists into Guatemala to prepare for war against the Sandinista 
government in Nicaragua. Hector Frances, one of the Argentine ad- 
visers involved, corroborated this aspect of Barahona ; s charges after 
his "defection" in 1982. "All this begins in late 1980," Frances ex- 
plained, speaking in the present tense, "when some fifty ex-Somo- 
cista [Nicaraguan] guards are in Argentina [being trained] in guerrilla 
activity and to train others. These men leave from Argentina and go 
to Costa Rica, Panama, Guatemala, Honduras, and Miami, where 



477 



other companions of theirs are trained in the same way in parami- 
litary [anti-Castro] Cuban-North American camps. At that time in 
Guatemala, the coming together of the counterrevolutionary [contra] 
groups begins to be orchestrated in Guatemala under the Argentines 
. . . and the paramilitary groups there ; with close ties to the Guate- 
malan fascist group of Mario Sandoval Alarcon." 11 

The Argentine advisers also instructed the Guatemalans. "The Ar- 
gentines were a great help to the death squads [in Guatemala]/' a 
Salvadoran rightist told reporter Craig Pyes. "Before, they used to 
kill right away. The Argentines taught them to wait until after the 
interrogation." 

Barahona ; s testimony, "tainted" by his admission of being a guer- 
rilla, was ignored by the New Right, and the "Guatemala as belea- 
guered country" campaign continued. 

Ronald Reagan ; s 1980 Inaugural Ball was a regal affair, with 
women swathed in furs and diamonds and men resplendent in tux- 
edos. Among those invited to this most prestigious of the inaugural 
events were two Guatemalans. One was former President Arana 
Osorio, the man who had vowed to turn his nation into a cemetery 
to stop communism. The other was Mario Sandoval Alarcon. 

While Sandoval danced and chatted with the elite of Reagan's 
inner circle, his minions back home were busy; the Secret Anti-Com- 
munist Army (ESA), which was believed to be an extension of San- 
doval's MLN, had just threatened to exterminate the entire Jesuit 
order in Guatemala. 

The election of Reagan coincided with the bloodiest outbreak of 
Guatemalan death squad actions in history. Almost five hundred 
deaths a month, almost all attributed to the right, were being re- 
ported by the American Embassy, but even that figure was consid- 
ered low by most other monitoring groups. Piles of mutilated bodies 
were being discovered every morning throughout the country, and a 
concerted campaign to eliminate the centrist parties was under way 
in Guatemala City. From July 1980 to June 1981, seventy-six leaders 
of the Christian Democratic Party and ten officials of the Social Dem- 
ocratic United Revolutionary Front were assassinated. Most were 
murdered by gunfire from passing cars, the trademark of the MLN. 

The violence notwithstanding, the Reagan Administration set about 



m 



to make good its campaign promises of selling military hardware to 
Guatemala. There was one hitch: a law barred military sales to "gov- 
ernments engaged in gross violations of human rights/ 7 and Congress 
was not about to certify Guatemala as exempt from this clause. 

The new Administration sidestepped the problem, simply taking 
the requested items off the restricted list; in June 1981, the $3.2 
million sale of fifty military trucks and one hundred Jeeps to Guate- 
mala was approved. 

The wave of rightist killings in 1980-81 did not end the Guate- 
malan guerrilla war, but attention was now diverted to El Salvador, 
where fighting had broken out into fullscale civil war. True to his 
programme to internationalize the MLN and in keeping with his 
role as the region's "Godfather/' Sandoval turned his energies to 
aiding his comrades in Guatemala's neighboring republic. He reor- 
ganized the death squads in El Salvador, gave them financial and 
technical assistance, and even instructed them on how to operate 
under the banner of a political party, in emulation of his own MLN. 
Subsequently the death toll in El Salvador climbed, and ARENA, the 
"death squad party" of Sandoval's Salvadoran protege, Roberto 
D'Aubuisson, achieved political legitimacy. This transference of ex- 
pertise and money was made possible largely by Sandoval's status 
within the World Anti-Communist League and with the interna- 
tional contacts he had established through it. 

"Paraguay's government was very influential in this effort by San- 
doval/' a right-wing Salvadoran businessmen who had once supported 
D'Aubuisson said. "The ARENA party was a result of this effort. 

" 'Mico' helped mostly economically. He's even helping them now 
[April 1985]. These Guatemalans are rich. They have cold cash." 

The businessman, who talked to one of the authors in a nonde- 
script San Salvador restaurant, spoke of another aspect of the Gua- 
temalan-Salvadoran ultra-right relationship: the exchange of 
intelligence. "The right there in Guatemala has a death list of names, 
which they send to the right here. And the right here has a list it 
sends to the ones there." 

The former ARENA backer said he had a friend whose name 
appeared on one of the lists sent to Guatemala. "He had to go to 
Guatemala to tell those people that his was an identical name to the 



one they had on their list ; but that it was a different person. He had 
to do that so the ones here wouldn't kill him." 

After his success in organizing the right in El Salvador, Sandoval 
ran for the presidency in 1982. But his ambition for supreme power 
was frustrated once again when the handpicked successor to General 
Lucas Garcia, Colonel Hanibal Guevara, was declared the winner. 
Once again, Sandoval and his MLN ally, Leonel Sisniega, went into 
action. Hanibal Guevara was quickly overthrown by a junior officers' 
coup that was largely engineered and led by Leonel Sisniega, who 
briefly served as its spokesman. "Many of the military officers in- 
volved reputedly held strong pro-MLN sympathies, in line with their 
fierce anti-communism. Working through them, the MLN hoped to 
grab key posts in the newly formed interim government, and ex- 
pected to win new elections that originaUy were planned for 60 days 
after the coup, according to sources." 12 

In a case of poetic justice, the MLN ; s hopes were dashed when 
the junior officers pulled a coup within a coup and invited the retired 
General Rios Montt to be president, the same man whom Laugerud 
and Sandoval had cheated out of the presidency in 1974. 

Rios Montt was a strange man; the words Guatemalans most 
frequently use in describing him are "emotionally disturbed." A 
member of the evangelical Church of the Word, based in California, 
Rios Montt had earlier been director of studies at the Inter-American 
Defense College in Washington and had been trained by the United 
States at Fort Bragg and in Panama. When he took over Guatemala, 
he declared a state of siege, suspended constitutional guarantees, and 
imposed strict press censorship. He also quickly isolated his initial 
partners in the military junta and declared to the nation that "God 
had chosen" him to lead the country. 

Whatever overwhelmingly Catholic Guatemala thought of Rios 
Montt, he was a man that the Protestant and evangelical New Right 
in the United States could embrace as one of their own. Suddenly, 
appeals for donations to fund projects in Guatemala became regular 
fixtures on American religious radio and television shows. Evangelist 
Pat Robertson went so far as to lobby for "mercy helicopters" to be 
sent to Guatemala. 

While U.S. evangelicals did not raise the $1 billion which Rios Montt 
said he expected from them, they did play an important public rela- 



180 



tions role for the general. Courted both by the Guatemalan govern- 
ment—which hosted numerous visits by U.S. evangelicals— and by the 
White House— which set up a Spring 1982 meeting between Rios 
Montt's chief adviser, Francisco Bianchi, and Jerry Falwell, Pat Rob- 
ertson and James Watt— a number of U.S. churches promoted the new 
Guatemalan model in their publications and church bulletin inserts 
and through their prayers and sermons. 13 

Immediately after coming to power, Rjos Montt declared he would 
put an end to the urban death squads, and for the most part he did 
so. This sudden end to the daily killings and disappearances in Gua- 
temala City amounted to tangible evidence that the death squads 
were controlled by— and operated from within— the armed forces. It 
didn ; t end entirely, as one of the authors can attest. 14 

Although most of the violence stopped in the cities, the civil war 
with the guerrillas, who had shown renewed strength during the 
Lucas regime, continued in the rural hinterlands. In response, Rios 
Montt unleashed a highly successful counterinsurgency program. Al- 
though regions were pacified, the operations also resulted in many 
large-scale massacres of Indians suspected of supporting the guerrillas. 

Counterinsurgency was complemented by a civic action cam- 
paign. "Beans and Bullets" (beans for those who submit, bullets for 
those who don ; t) was aimed at winning the hearts and minds of the 
civilians, no matter what it took. 

Rios Montt didn't fit into the cloak of human rights defender that 
American conservatives and evangelicals tried to wrap about him. At 
the same time as the "Beans and Bullets" program was going on, he 
established secret army tribunals to try and to execute "subversives," 
defending the executions on the basis of an amnesty he had offered 
the rebels: "Why should we kill people without legal backing? The 
amnesty gives us the judicial framework for killing. Anyone who 
refuses to surrender will be shot." 15 

In 1982, one of the authors questioned Rios Montt about four 
suspected guerrillas who had just been executed by firing squads. 

"When all the bodies appeared on the roads riddled with bullets," 
the president rambled, "they said that here was the law of the jungle 
without any legal validity. These firing squads are legal— judicially 
established and everything. And the executions were done— but, as I 
did four, I could have done four hundred. But no, the law is the 
law." 16 



181 



Ri'os Montt's evangelical zeal also had appeal for the Unification 
Church of the Reverend Sun Myung Moon. In 1982, CAUSA estab- 
lished an office in Guatemala and the following year organized a 
"World Media Conference" in Guatemala City. The conference in- 
cluded some two hundred participants from forty-five countries. From 
their base in Guatemala, the press attendees traveled to Honduras, 
Costa Rica, and El Salvador. "The writers met with military and 
business leaders in each country, hearing from [Bo Hi] Pak and also 
from then-President Efrain Ri'os Montt of Guatemala." 17 

While Ri'os Montt waged war in the country and attempted to 
convert his countrymen to his version of the "word" of God in 
bizarre Sunday-night television sermons, elements of the Guatemalan 
ultra-right were yet again plotting their return to power. 

By coincidence, one of the authors was in Guatemala in the com- 
pany of a former CIA contract agent and mercenary leader, Mitchell 
Livingstone WerBell III, in October and November 1982. WerBell, 
it turned out, was there to help Leonel Sisniega launch a new coup, 
this time against Ri'os Montt. 

WerBell, a short man who sported a great bushy moustache, was 
called "the DwarP ; by his employees. To others, he was known as 
"the Whispering Wizard of Death." He was a master at revising 
history, exaggerating or omitting his own covert involvement ac- 
cording to the circumstances, while chain-smoking and consuming 
vast quantities of Scotch. He died of cancer a year after his last Gua- 
temalan caper (which never came off, he later claimed, due to State 
Department interference), and many of his secrets went with him. 18 

WerBell ran a counterterrorist training camp in Powder Springs, 
Georgia, called SIONICS. An original member of the OSS chapter in 
China during World War II— along with Richard Helms, Ray Cline, 
and John Singlaub*— the old "spook" also ran a flourishing black- 
market arms trade, which had constantly brought him under the 
scrutiny of American government investigators. Several years before, 

"General Singlaub went to Powder Springs in 1982 to lecture WerBell's cadets. 
At the time, many of the SIONICS trainees were followers of Lyndon La- 
Rouche, a perennial presidential candidate who believes that most of the political 
leadership of the United States, the International Jewish financiers, the Soviet 
KGB, the Queen of England, and Henry Kissinger are all working for British 
Intelligence In a secret plan to take over the world. 



18Z 



he had bought the patent to the Ingram submachine gun and had 
developed a special silencer for it. * 

During the month the coauthor spent in Guatemala, WerBell 
stayed in hermitlike isolation in his suite in the Hotel Cortijo Re- 
forma, one of Guatemala City's better hotels. A retinue of Guate- 
malan colonels, businessmen, and a member of the U.S. military 
advisory group to Guatemala attached to the American Embassy reg- 
ularly visited him, usually at night. "Just visiting old friends," 
WerBell would grin to the author when questioned about the con- 
stant parade. 

Rios Montt was finally toppled, but the man that came out on 
top was not Sisniega of the MLN but General Oscar Humberto Mejia 
Victores, a portly man with a tendency toward excessive perspira- 
tion. Despite the energetic lobbying efforts of the New Right and 
the Reagan Administration, which constantly tried to certify the na- 
tion as an "improved" human rights violator, Congress did not see 
fit to follow suit, and under Mejia Victores Guatemala remained 
something of a pariah state. 

Meanwhile, the killing went on. 1 '£/ Crafco, " Loren Jenkins re- 
ported on one day's victims in December 1984, "told of three bodies, 
including that of a 15-year old boy, found chopped to death with 
machetes. ... All three had their hands tied behind their backs. The 
daily said the body of Cesar Augusto Martinez, 60, described simply 
as a 'political activist' because a union card was in his pocket, was 
found decomposing after neighbors had seen buzzards circling and 
informed authorities. The cause of death could not be established 
immediately, according to the local magistrate, because dogs had 
mangled the corpse. 

"La Prensa Libre had more detailed accounts of at least seven other 
killings around the country. As usual, corpses appeared bearing signs 
of strangulation, knife wounds, gunshots or in some cases all three." 19 

If the U.S. Congress couldn't stomach the "anti-communist" 
struggle, Guatemala had allies who could. Today the Taiwanese Em- 
bassy in Guatemala is second in size only to that of the United 

'Ingrams were used in the killing of two American labor advisers and the head 
of Salvadoran land reform, Rodolfo Viera ; in the Sheraton Hotel of San Salvador 
in 1981. Hans Christ was implicated in the killings. The previous year, Christ 
had been an employee of WerBell's at SIONICS. 



483 



States. When the Guatemalan government bought two million dol- 
lars' worth of helicopter spare parts from the United States in 1984, 
it was Taiwanese, not Guatemalan, mechanics who installed them. 

The Taiwanese have agricultural projects throughout the country, 
including a model village where they are teaching displaced Indians 
how to grow soybeans. Their political warfare training has reached 
an advanced stage; there are now Taiwanese advisers training officers 
and soldiers in political warfare throughout Guatemala. "You can't 
go very far [in Guatemala]/' one State Department official said, 
"without seeing one of their political warfare manuals. They're 
everywhere." 

Under Mejia Victores, Guatemala had other allies, including some 
old friends in the United States. Among the American New Right 
groups assisting the government's efforts were General Singlaub's 
Refugee Relief International and Andy Messing's National Defense 
Council. The National Defense Council's military adviser is General 
Harry "Heine" C. Aderholt, who by coincidence also works with 
Refugee Relief International. Messing is a member of Singlaub's 
American chapter of the World Anti-Communist League, the 
USCWF, while Aderholt attended the Singlaub-hosted 1984 League 
conference. 

Another group involved in Guatemala was the Knights of Malta 
through their "Americares" arm. Most of the Knights' aid was chan- 
neled through the army to go to the "model villages," the corner- 
stone of the "rural pacification" program. Their representative in 
Guatemala was none other than Roberto Alejos, the same man who 
had led the Guatemalan-New Right "rehabilitation" public relations 
campaign in 1980. 

The Unification Church also kept its hand in Guatemala. In May 
1984, staff members for four Republican senators went to Central 
America. There they met with government officials and American 
Embassy personnel in Honduras and Guatemala and served as ob- 
servers to the elections in El Salvador. Their expenses were picked 
up by the Freedom Leadership Foundation, the United States front 
group for the Unification Church. 

Through his involvement with the World Anti-Communist- 
League, Mario Sandoval Alarc6n continues to be a leader of the in- 
ternational ultra-right, status that helps to maintain his power base 



184 



at home. In 1985, he was still the head of the Guatemalan chapter 
of the League. 

Despite his New Right friends' attempts to portray him as a main- 
stream conservative, Sandoval's true colors can't help but emerge. "If 
I have to get rid of half of Guatemala so the other half can live in 
peace," he told a reporter during his unsuccessful presidential bid in 
1985, "I'll do it." 

Although the MLN is now an opposition party and is distrusted 
by some officers in the military, the alienation is primarily due to a 
dispute over power, not over ideology. The MLN remains a key ally 
to the army in its ongoing suppression of the left. MLN followers 
still make up the backbone of the nationwide network of salaried 
government jefes pohticos. These informers continue to serve as orejas 
(ears) for the armed forces. "They are omnipotent," Martinez Montt, 
the Christian Democrat official, said of the jefes, whom he blames 
for the deaths and disappearances of hundreds of his party's leaders 
and followers. "They denounce people and then the army gets them. 
It's the same system as in a communist or fascist state." 

Sandoval also claims to have a private army of three thousand and 
to be able to put a hundred thousand paramilitary troops in the field 
in twenty-four hours. His power remains unchecked, as do the ac- 
tions of his paramilitary squads. And he still has the power to make 
apologists of Western diplomats. "Sandoval has had to pull in his 
horns," an American diplomat stressed to one of the authors in April 
1985 during Guatemala's presidential campaign. "If, in fact, he con- 
trols the death squads or has people eliminated by security forces, 
he's had to clean up his act. After all, he's running for president." 

Several months before, Sandoval had denounced the coauthor by 
name (in Guatemala, tantamount to a death sentence), and a judge 
had issued an "order for capture" for him. On this matter, the dip- 
lomat was hesitant: "Well, I wouldn't provoke him, at least not 
while you're in the country. I don't mean he'd order anything, but 
some of his people . . . well, you know what I mean, they're capable 
of anything." 

This diplomat, one of the Reagan Administration's point men in 
the campaign to cleanse Guatemala's tarnished image, had a pat an- 
swer for any reporter's question. He cited the body count compiled 
by the Embassy (disputed by human rights groups) as proof that the 
death squads were on the decline, from a high of 483 a month in 



i&5 

1981 to 90 a month in 1984. Asked about the estimated thirty-five 
thousand "disappeared" in Guatemala, the diplomat responded: 
"Some part of those who disappear are probably picked up by the 
security forces, but we also know that some people 'self-disappear 7 — 
go underground." 

Just as he did when he lost power after the 1978 elections, San- 
doval has now turned to methods that are not necessarily "anti- 
communist" in nature to keep the MLN funded. Much of Guate- 
mala's organized crime, including drug trafficking, robberies, and 
kidnappings for ransom, is attributed to the far-right parties. A wave 
of perverse gang-rapes/robberies in several Guatemala City nightclubs 
in the fall of 1984 are widely believed to have been the work of the 
"dogs" belonging to the MLN. 

In part, these tactics led to the public falling-out of Sandoval and 
his longtime protege Leonel Sisniega. Sisniega now heads his own 
party, the Unified Anti-Communist Party (PUA), also known as "the 
Spike." Still, insiders insist that the two continue to plan paramilitary 
operations together. A Salvadoran who knows Sandoval well says 
that the two former MLN leaders continue to meet regularly with 
other rightists in a back room of a Guatemala City boutique. "It's a 
contact place where they all meet. They control the death squads. 
It's where they exchange information." 

Asked about this, the American diplomat explained that investi- 
gation of the death squads was not a top priority. "We try to get 
the whole human rights picture." 

That picture remains grim. In March 1985, Mejia Victores stated 
that the Mutual Support Group, an organization composed of the 
wives, children, and relatives of the "disappeared," was "a pressure 
group, managed and directed by subversion, who are causing prob- 
lems for Guatemala" and warned that "if they continue exerting 
pressures and trying to subvert order, we will be forced to apply legal 
norms." 

A few days later, the body of the leader of the Mutual Support 
Group was found on a roadside, his head crushed and his tongue 
pulled out. Four days later, another leader was found dead on a road- 
side along with her two-year-old son and her brother. On April 8, 
the U.S. State Department "energetically deplored" the killings and 
stated "the need for further improvements in human rights" in Gua- 
temala. 



186 



Those improvements were on the way, according to the Guate- 
malan regime. "The vioIence/ ; Ramon Zelada Carillo, press spokes- 
man for the Mejia government ; announced in 1985 ; "is due to the 
Ides of March. The heat of summer is what causes the violence. 
Soon ; the rains will come to placate the passions." 



FIFTEEN 



Who ever said that what the peasants of El Salvador wanted 
was land? Maybe all they wanted was . . . some chocolate. 

Orlando de Sola, Salvadoran landowner, 
March 1984 

It was the dawn on an April morning in San Vicente prov- 
ince. It was already warm ; and in a few hours the dew clinging to 
the leaves and grass would be burned off and the valley would be 
obscured by a thick humid haze. 

In a stubbled field just outside the village of Tecoluca ; an army 
helicopter rose above the treeline ; sending a whirlpool of red dust 
over the gathered peasants. In the chopper were two wounded sol- 
diers and one dead one. 

After the helicopter was gone ; attention returned to activities on 
the field ; where an army truck had just thrown six bodies off into a 
ditch. As a cluster of National Guardsmen supervised; civilians of 
Tecoluca dragged the bodies over to a mango tree ; where an elderly 
camyesino was digging a big hole. One little boy ; valiantly struggling 
with the body designated to him ; kept losing his grip and falling. 
Women with babies cradled in their arms came out of the surround- 
ing huts to watch. 

All six of the dead men were in civilian peasant clothes. None of 
them was wearing military clothing or boots. They had had weap- 
ons; one of the authors was assured; but they had already been taken 
away. 



188 



One of the dead was very young. He could have been nine or he 
could have been fifteen; the bullet wound just under his left eye had 
destroyed enough of his face to make an exact determination impos- 
sible. 

It was the head wound that all the dead had in common. Some 
had bullet wounds in other parts of the body, but all their heads had 
been destroyed by point-blank shots. 

As the villagers threw the bodies into the pit under the mango 
tree ; the National Guardsmen kicked the corpses or poked at them 
with sticks. They especially made fun of the dead boy. He was 
thrown in last. He went in head first, and his head flopped gro- 
tesquely when it hit; the National Guardsmen laughed. 

Amid the laughter, a shot rang out just behind the coauthor. A 
bluebird in the mango tree fell in a flutter of wrenched feathers and 
plopped into the hole. The National Guardsman who had shot the 
bird laughed again, this time at the way the coauthor had flinched 
at the gunshot. 

A little boy went to the edge of the pit and jumped in. Clambering 
over the bodies, he retrieved the bird, climbed from the hole, and 
took it to the base of the mango tree. He was still there examining 
it when the villagers began throwing dirt over the dead. It was an- 
other morning in El Salvador. 

Few investigations have ever been made into the estimated fifty 
thousand murders that have occurred in El Salvador since 1979. 
When three National Guardsmen and their commanding officer were 
sentenced for the slaying of four American church women in 1984, 
it marked the first political murder trial in El Salvador in five years. 

It hasn ; t been necessary to conduct trials to know who is respon- 
sible for the slaughter, however. All observers agree that most— some 
say over ninety percent— of the victims were killed by right-wing 
death squads. The guilty, many of whom are well known, remain 
free, their crimes unpunished. The most prominent of their leaders 
frequently travel to the United States, where they meet with their 
New Right allies and conservative congressmen and senators. 

Sometimes the hit teams are soldiers or police carrying out orders 
from their superior officers. Others are composed of civilians or cash- 
iered soldiers hired for specific assassinations; their fees are paid by 
rich businessmen who, for their own political or economic self -inter- 



est, organize and fund the paramilitary network in coordination with 
friends in the military hierarchy. 

A U.S. Embassy official in San Salvador attributes the country's 
death squad "phenomenon" to "a generalized lack of faith in the 
corrupted judicial system/ ; which has resulted in traditional "vigi- 
lante-style justice." "When a country like EI Salvador sees itself trau- 
matized [by leftist guerrilla violence] ; and its constitutional authorities 
unable to deal with it ; they're going to do something about it." 1 

Raul Garcia Prieto, a ranking member of El Salvador's ultra-rightist 
ARENA party ; has a different explanation. "Maybe we, as Latins ; 
just get hotter quicker, and in the U.S. the differences are settled in 
a more paused fashion." 

In the office of his candy factory, Hugo Barrera, a former ARENA 
vice-presidential candidate, told one of the authors his own theory: 
"Violence," he said, "is part of our national folklore." 

Folklore aside, El Salvador's history is important in explaining the 
civil strife currently searing this tiny Central American republic of 
five million people, most of whom are illiterate rural peasants. Many 
argue that it was the corrupt system of government— held in place 
since the 1930s by a succession of iron-fisted military rulers, a ruth- 
less National Guard and police force, and a small elite class of fan- 
tastically wealthy landowners who exercised feudal control over the 
country's primary sources of income— that led to the leftist guerrilla 
insurgency in the 1970s. 

For years, the strongman who held EI Salvador's "system" in 
place was General Jose Alberto "Chele" (Blondie) Medrano, the 
commander of the National Guard. In the 1960s, Medrano rose to 
power in El Salvador with the assistance of an American govern- 
ment alarmed by the rise of communism after Castro's takeover in 
Cuba. Under the aegis of President Kennedy's Alliance for Progress 
program, which stressed regional defense coordination against sub- 
version, Medrano created and directed ORDEN and ANSESAL. 
These state agencies were established at the behest of the United 
States and reported to the CIA, as did counterpart agencies in Gua- 
temala and Nicaragua. All became the core groups for ruthless 
counterterror campaigns in these countries when the political strug- 
gle intensified during the 1970s. In EI Salvador, ORDEN and AN- 



190 



SESAL later became the breeding grounds for El Salvador's 
government-run death squads. 

In a March 1985 interview with one of the authors on the breezy 
veranda of his San Salvador home ; Medrano remembered the heady 
days of "the Alliance/' when he was at the height of his power. 

To counterarrest the actions of the international communism, the 
heads of Central America met in San Jose [Costa Rica] with President 
Kennedy and signed the Act of San Jose. 

Afterwards, many things were coordinated regionally, in the econ- 
omy and so on. We also had to unite in military defense. That's when 
CONDECA [a short-lived regional defense committee uniting Central 
America's armies in 1964] was formed. 

ORDEN ("Order") was the acronym for the Democratic Nation- 
alist Organization, a rural paramilitary army of some eighty thou- 
sand anti-communist informers and vigilantes. "ORDEN was an 
ideological school we had created to organize the peasants," Med- 
rano said. "We formed ORDEN by calling up ex-policemen, Guards- 
men, and military officers. We organized courses which taught [the] 
representative democratic system, the advantages of belonging to 
the free world, and the disadvantages of the socialist world. When 
the struggle against communism began, ORDEN was used to help the 
military." 

"The problem with ORDEN," explained Francisco Jose "Chachi" 
Guerrero, a former National Conciliation Party (PCN) chief and pres- 
idential candidate and now El Salvador's Supreme Court chief justice, 
"was that it was a paramilitary group. It began as a support group 
to help the PCN. They were organized to be PCN activists. General 
Medrano gave it legality and lent it to fight communism in the rural 
areas. 

"Then there were problems because PCN was a political party 
and ORDEN was paramilitary. ORDEN wanted to supplant the 
PCN." 

If this sounds remarkably like the "Taiwan model"— a political 
party establishing a paramilitary network and "lending" it to the 
army— it is apparently not a coincidence. Salvadoran officers fre- 
quently mention the role of a Taiwanese officer, Colonel Chu, who 
was stationed in El Salvador during the 1960s. According to these 



191 

military officials ; Chu was a key adviser and consultant to Medrano 
during the formation of ORDEN. 

When ORDEN collected intelligence data on "subversives/' it 
turned the data over to the Salvadoran National Security Agency 
(ANSESAL). Both agencies were headquartered in the Presidential 
Palace ; where Medrano was presidential chief of staff at the same 
time that he was National Guard chief and on the payroll of the 
CIA. 

For defense, one needed his eyes open to see the enemy. That's how 
ANSESAL was born. We created one in each country in Central 
America; like the CIA, we had reunions to interchange intelligence 
on the communists. That is when the concept of indoctrinating the 
Central American peasants on the village level was born. But the 
communists beat us to it. 

When the threat from leftist insurgents finally became visible, 
Medrano said, the armed forces had a problem. "The law doesn't 
permit us to use terrorism. We have to use countersabotage and coun- 
terterrorism. So when we captured [a communist] ; we applied the 
law to them." 

But the law applied was not one found in any law books. "All 
the guerrillas are traitors to the Fatherland, because they fight in 
the service of a foreign power [the Soviet Union]. And the law 
against that is the death penalty. So we applied that law against 
them." 

The old general, his blue eyes bright, admitted that his creations 
had "gone bad" and become the core groups for the death squads, 
but he blamed it on the men who took over after him. 

Medrano's account conflicts with reality. Although he lost his post 
as National Guard chief after a 1970 coup plot against the incumbent 
president, Medrano launched an unsuccessful bid for the presidency 
in 1972 using ORDEN as a power base. Even in the 1980s ; he was 
generally believed to exercise enormous influence as a kind of patri- 
arch in the political machinations of the far right ; aided by the pro- 
teges he had left behind ; Roberto D'Aubuisson, Adolfo Cuellar, and 
Raul Molina. These men ; all of whom also joined the Latin Ameri- 
can branch of the World Anti-Communist League ; rose to positions 
of power in ORDEN, ANSESAL, and the National Guard. 

During the interview, Medrano distanced himself from his pupils. 



m 



"When I left, the military chiefs put delinquents in charge," he said 
with disgust. "They sold the ORDEN cards. They gave them out 
so they could commit abuses." 

It was these "abusive" men 7 he claimed, that formed the death 
squads. "The people are mistaken when they say the death squads 
came out of ORDEN. It is the richest, the cupola [oligarchy] who 
distinguish in this. They don't want to give up their land. They are 
criminoids. They have to be crazy for what they do, like raping the 
dead, putting the head in the belly. . . . 

"I defended the masses. I never defended the cupola." 

It was the general's last interview. Shortly before noon the next 
day, as he dropped off his maid at her housing project, four young 
men, apparently leftist guerrillas, walked up to the general's blue van 
and pumped five bullets into him. Medrano didn't even have time 
to reach for the .45 he always carried or for the hand grenades that 
reportedly filled his glove compartment. 

The coauthor arrived at the scene shortly afterward and found 
the old man still in the blue slacks and long-sleeved blue shirt he 
had worn during the previous night's three-hour interview. Now 
his clothes were covered with shattered window glass and blood. 
A bullet had made a small, neat hole above Medrano's left eye, 
and the godfather of EI Salvador's White Hand was clearly dead. 

One of the "criminals" put in charge of ORDEN after Medrano's 
official discharge in 1970 was Adolf o Cuellar. "Cuellar was one of 
the abusive ones," Medrano had said. "He was part of the cupola 
when they formed the death squads." 

Cuellar was a member of the National Assembly for the National 
Conciliation Party (PCN), which since 1961 had been the party ve- 
hicle that the nation's military rulers used to provide themselves with 
a democratic facade. Cuellar was also a founding member of the 
Latin American Anti-Communist Confederation. Throughout the 
1970s, the Salvadoran representatives to World Anti-Communist 
League conferences were mostly Cuellar friends, ranking members 
of ORDEN, ANSESAL, and the PCN. 

One man that remembers the less-public side of Cuellar is Colonel 
Roberto Eulalio Santivanez, the former chief of El Salvador's military 
intelligence and the last head of ANSESAL; he now lives in exile. 
"You must understand the structure of the death squads," Santivanez 



explained as he sipped apple juice in a Washington restaurant. "At 
the top are the brains, the military officers and businessmen. At the 
bottom are the guns, the ones who actually do the killing. In be- 
tween are the poros, the dogs. That is what they call them. The dogs 
take the orders and supervise the operation. If a victim is to be inter- 
rogated and tortured first, the dogs will do this. 2 

"And Cuellar," Santivanez said, stabbing at the list of Salvadoran 
WACL members shown him, "was one of the worst dogs." From 
one of El Salvador's wealthy families, Cuellar was no ordinary mem- 
ber of the oligarchy, nor even a normal death squad "dog." He was 
a man who delighted in sadism and murder. In periodic drunken 
binges, he was known to saunter into military interrogation centers 
and plead to be allowed to "interrogate" any prisoners they might 
be holding. 

Cuellar is openly discussed by his former allies because he is dead; 
he was murdered in his San Salvador home in 1981. The rightists 
say the guerrillas did it. "Cuellar was a raging anti-communist," Chief 
Justice Guerrero recalls, "until he was finally killed by the left. They 
got him because, as one of the top people of ORDEN, he got intelli- 
gence on them, which was passed on to ANSESAL. ANSESAL then 
turned the information over to the security forces, where it was acted 
upon." 

In fact, the murder could have been by any number of people; by 
1981, Adolfo Cuellar had made plenty of enemies. 

Another of Medrano's proteges, Roberto IXAubuisson, made a big- 
ger name for himself. While Cuellar was in command of ORDEN, 
D ; Aubuisson was rising through the ranks of the National Guard. 
Eventually he became the deputy chief of ANSESAL under Santiva- 
nez. The post was ideally suited for the future mastermind of EI 
Salvador's death squads, since ANSESAL ; s files were the intelligence 
bank of the ORDEN network. 

During the 1970s, D ; Aubuisson, a chain-smoking, boyishly hand- 
some member of EI Salvador's oligarchy of wealthy families, was 
trained at some of the world's most proficient unconventional war- 
fare finishing schools: in Uruguay; at the now-banned International 
Police Academy run by the State Department's Office of Public Safety 
in Washington, D.C.; and, of course, at the Political Warfare Cadres 
Academy in Taiwan. 



194 



In an interview with a French reporter in 1985, D ; Aubuisson said 
that the course he took in Peitou in 1977 was "the best class I ever 
studied." 

Those lessons were what I applied when I organized, we started or- 
ganizing, civic groups. Political war is different from military war. It 
is different in its space; a political war is defined as 360 degrees. The 
military war is a war in space, but there is one military front, one 
theater of operation. In the military war, the young people could 
participate, the young men especially. In political warfare, everybody 
participates. 3 

Political warfare, D ; Aubuisson said, "is psychological warfare 
against the enemy. I started psychological warfare against the com- 
munists. I denounced their program, their treasons, their infiltrations 
into the government. 

"The political warfare is a complement to the armed fight." 

Immediately following his Taiwan experience and his training in 
Washington, D'Aubuisson returned to El Salvador to join the Na- 
tional Guard's intelligence branch, then became deputy chief of 
ANSESAL. He also wrote a report on the alleged ties between mod- 
erate reformists and the communist guerrillas that was distributed to 
the various intelligence agencies. Whether those links existed in real 
terms or not didn't matter to D'Aubuisson. "You can be a Commu- 
nist," he told reporter Laurie Becklund in 1983, "even if you person- 
ally don't believe you are a Communist." 4 

D'Aubuisson's report would serve as the basis for the coming war 
against El Salvador's political center, in which he was already becom- 
ing involved; by 1978, he was widely believed to be the driving force 
behind the White Warriors' Union (UGB). 5 

The death sentence came in the fall of 1979 and was delivered to 
the home in a small, yellow manila envelope: "For betraying de- 
mocracy and the Constitution, you are condemned to death. You 
will receive the merited punishment at any moment." 

The communique was signed by the Union Guerrero Blanco, the 
White Warriors' Union. 

The lawyer, a quiet, spare man in his late fifties with a receding 
hairline and intense brown eyes, told his story in a calm, paced 



i95 



manner, betraying no emotion. A former judge ; he spoke to one of 
the authors in San Salvador recently. 

At the time when the envelope came, he was active in one of El 
Salvador's moderately leftist political parties, now underground. True 
to their word ; the killers came for him ; pulling up to the house in a 
van one day in December 1979. Not finding the lawyer ; they emp- 
tied their weapons on those they did find— his daughter ; her year-old 
baby, and her eight-year-old son— as they stood in the doorway of 
the home. The eight-year-old was killed in the barrage of bullets. 
"When it happened/' the grandfather said ; "the authorities promised 
to investigate ; but nothing has ever been done." 

Every year since then ; on the same December day ; the telephone 
rings in the suburban San Salvador home. Every year for the last six 
it has been the same anonymous voice, that of a young ; educated 
male ; conveying the same message: "Sorry about the boy's death." 
Then he hangs up, until next year. 

The family has grown accustomed to the annual "condolence" 
call. Several years ago ; however ; increasingly distraught over the con- 
stant reminder of their tragedy ; they sought the advice of a psychol- 
ogist. The psychologist told them that since the killer calls every 
year on the same day ; the day he murdered their boy ; he isn't dis- 
playing remorse but sadism. He wants them to suffer. 

The White Warriors' Union was one of the first anti-communist 
death squads to appear in El Salvador in the mid-1970s, having grown 
out of the Armed Forces of National Liberation— War of Extermina- 
tion (FALANGE). Many other names were to follow it: the White 
Hand, the Death Squad, the Salvadoran Anticommunist Brigade, the 
Secret Anticommunist Army. 

According to the few death squad members who have spoken of 
their work, these titles are just so many names, chosen to instill fear 
and make the public believe there are many groups in operation. To 
the contrary, they are usually one and the same, a small group of 
men operating on the orders of an elite inner council. It is the council 
that decides who dies. 

As for the names, they are freely borrowed and interchanged, even 
across national boundaries. The name "the White Hand," for ex- 
ample, was taken from the death squads in Guatemala. Actually, this 
particular choice was not made for purely esthetic reasons. "The 



[Salvadoran] death squads were a reflection of the White Hand in 
Guatemala," according to Roberto Santivanez. As ANSESAL chief 
from 1977 to 1979, he had intimate knowledge, both of how the 
death squad system worked and of the role his former deputy, Rob- 
erto D ; Aubuisson, had in creating it. 

There were many attempts to bring death squads into EI Salvador. 
They were always avoided in the past [before 1979). People from 
Guatemala wanted to start death squads in EI Salvador, always called 
the White Hand. When I worked in the administration, death squads 
were forbidden because of their negative image. 6 

Despite Santivariez's claim, death squads did in fact operate 
throughout the 1970s, averaging some two hundred victims a year; 
after 1979, they killed four times that number every month. 

In October 1979, El Salvador's president, General Carlos Hum- 
berto Romero, was overthrown by reformist junior officers. Installing 
a progressive civilian-military "revolutionary junta," the new rulers 
quickly abolished ORDEN and ANSESAL, blaming the organiza- 
tions for having created and operated death squads. Santivanez, the 
ANSESAL chief, fled into exile in Guatemala. Major D ; Aubuisson, 
his deputy, remained.* 

As Christopher Dickey reported in The New Republic. 

When the October 15, 1979, coup ousted the President D'Aubuis- 
son served, the ambitious Major nevertheless knew how to take 
advantage of the situation. The same morning, D'Aubuisson ad- 
vised Colonel Jaime Abdul Gutierrez, a conservative and one of the 
coup's principal organizers, that the ANSESAL files should be re- 
moved before they could fall into the hands of the communist reb- 
els, many of whose closest allies were being brought into the 
government as part of a short-lived attempt at pluralism. Gutierrez 
told D'Aubuisson to get the files and take them to the headquarters 
of the armed forces general staff. But Gutierrez apparently did not 
anticipate that D'Aubuisson would keep the most important dos- 
siers for himself. A few days later, D'Aubuisson asked to be dis- 
charged because, he said, he couldn't go along with the left-wing 
leanings of the new government. Within a matter of weeks, D'Au- 

*One who lost his job in the 1979 coup was Colonel Luis Benedicto Rodriguez, 
a top member of the CAL branch of the World Anti-Communist League. The 
head of ORDEN, he had, like Medrano, also been chief of staff for the presi- 
dency. 



197 



buisson was appearing on nationwide television, his time paid for 
by some of EI Salvador's wealthy families, making detailed de- 
nunciations of "subversives" inside and outside the government. 
Several of the people he denounced were killed shortly thereafter 
by the death squads. 7 

If death squads had been "resisted" before the coup 7 as Colonel 
Santivanez claims, because of their potential for bad public relations, 
following the coup they were embraced with ghoulish zeal by key 
members of the Salvadoran military. D ; Aubuisson was the point- 
man in this counterterror campaign designed to undermine the new 
moderate government. 

One of the first prominent victims was Mario Zamora, the attor- 
ney general of the new junta. In late February 1980, days after he 
had been denounced by D ; Aubuisson on television, armed men in 
civilian dress broke into Zamora ; s home. Since a party was in prog- 
ress, the intruders dragged Zamora into a bathroom, where they shot 
him in the face at least ten times. 

The next month, D ; Aubuisson again appeared on television to tell 
progressive Archbishop Oscar Amulfo Romero that he "still had time 
to change his ways." Days later, as Romero was giving mass in a 
chapel, he was assassinated by a marksman with a single shot 
through the heart. 

Eight months later, U.S. Ambassador to EI Salvador Robert White 
sent a cable to Washington detailing D ; Aubuisson ; s role in the mur- 
der. White reported that his information came from an extremely 
reliable source: one of the Salvadoran military officers who had par- 
ticipated in the assassination planning. 

According to this eyewitness account, Roberto EHAubuisson sum- 
moned a group of about twelve men to a safe house, presided over 
the meeting, announced the decision to assassinate the Archbishop 
and supervised the drawing of lots for the "honor" of carrying out 
the plot. The Salvadoran officer informant was disappointed that the 
luck of the draw had not favored him. He gave bullets from his gun 
to the officer selected in order that he might participate vicariously in 
the murder of the Archbishop. 8 

The officer who "won" was Lieutenant Francisco Amaya Rosa, 
who in turn chose a sharpshooter, Walter Antonio Alvarez, to do 
the actual shooting. Later, according to White, D'Aubuisson worried 



198 



about Alvarez's trustworthiness and had him gunned down while 
the killer watched a soccer game. 

Because of his on-the-air denunciations; D ; Aubuisson instantly be- 
came the darling of his nation's ultra-right, counting among his allies 
many police and military officers. Those killed after being denounced 
by D'Aubuisson were only the most infamous cases; hundreds of 
other victims were being claimed by D'Aubuisson's supporters 
throughout EI Salvador in early 1980. 

An important cornerstone of D'Aubuisson's support was found in 
the old ORDEN network. Although it had been officially dissolved 
several months earlier, D ; Aubuisson had paid ORDEN ; s provincial 
chiefs to maintain the organization, and it continued to operate in 
the countryside. Now called the Democratic Nationalist Front (FDN), 
a name thought up by "Chele" Medrano, the people still knew it as 
ORDEN. 

On Thursday, February 28, 1980, two truckloads of police and Na- 
tional Guardsmen in civilian dress arrived [in Cinquera]. With them 
were . . . members of ORDEN . . . who were in charge of leading the 
security forces and the Army to the homes of those people whom 
they believed belonged to some popular [subversive] organization. 

The ORDEN-led detail detained two villagers, a man and a 
woman. 

They took them away to the National Guard station at Suchitoto, 
where Aida and Felix were tortured to death. I say they were bru- 
tally tortured because Aida's body did not have a single bullet 
wound, but her nose and her teeth were broken and her lip was 
missing. . . . She had a hole in her head but I do not know how 
they did that; it was so large that a hand could fit in easily. They 
had removed her fingernails; her fingers were shrivelled. Her entire 
body had been soaked in some kind of acid. She also showed signs 
of having been raped. 9 

What was not well known in early 1980 was that D'Aubuisson's 
sudden political clout had been nurtured abroad. The assistance of Mario 
Sandoval Alarcon in Guatemala, of the right-wing military juntas of 
South America, and of elements of the American New Right had 
launched D'Aubuisson on the path to anti-communist stardom. 

A former ORDEN organizer and Medrano ally explained to one 
of the authors how the "international system" worked: 



199 



The ultra-right parties here [in El Salvador], in Guatemala, in Argen- 
tina, are all the same. They have the same ideology, the same sym- 
bols—even the same music. The money the parties use is channeled 
internationally. It goes to support one another's elections. The 
[rightist] political parties use the same system as the communists. 
When they need to eliminate someone, they bring in someone from 
the outside who is contracted to do the job. This would be directed 
by a central committee. All the parties have their own shock forces. 
There are people who hold high offices in these parties who are 
nothing more than killers. This is how it works. 

The first order of business, then ; was for the Salvadoran rightists 
to form a political party. To this end ; they had turned to Sandoval. 

In December 1983, two investigative journalists, Laurie Becklund 
of The Los Angeles Times and Craig Pyes of The Albuquerque Journal, 
published a remarkable series of articles based on their infiltration of 
the Central American ultra-right, exposing D ; Aubuisson ; s ties to the 
Guatemalan MLN chief. According to them, the links were formed 
in 1979 at a meeting in the MLN headquarters in Guatemala City- 
Presiding was Mario Sandoval Alarcon. 

Sandoval . . . told his audience, a group of young Salvadoran busi- 
nessmen worried by the leftist direction their country was taking, 
about the bloody history of the MLN and the sacrifice each of them 
would have to make to form a party like the MLN in EI Salvador. 10 

D'Aubuisson's cohorts were ready to make these sacrifices. The re- 
sult was the Broad National Front (FAN) and later the Nationalist 
Republican Alliance (ARENA). 

By this time, as Colonel Santivanez recounted in a press confer- 
ence on March 21, 1985, "Many [Salvadoran] officers were with 
D'Aubuisson. They were invited to parties, talked into sharing his 
ideology and getting ready for action. It all centered on the establish- 
ment of the FAN that would support the armed forces. That's what 
they were selling. This organization would later become the death 
squads." 

As the Salvadoran rightists prepared for the unveiling of FAN, 
their death squads were claiming ever-greater numbers of victims. 
One reason for their increasing boldness was that their Guatemalan 
allies were providing them with guns, money, expertise, and tem- 
porary asylum. 



200 



"From captured documents/' Santivanez said, "it's clear that these 
groups operated between Guatemala and El Salvador. Their sanctu- 
ary is Guatemala where they have returned after every action to 
avoid any reaction from the armed forces or the courts of El Salvador. 
There ; they work closely with Mario Sandoval Alarcon and Leonel 
Sisniega Otero, heads of the White Hand in Guatemala." 

Santivanez was in exile in Guatemala at the time and had occasion 
to talk with some of the "hit teams" there in between their trips to 
El Salvador. 

We used to meet with these people. They openly talked about the 
operations. They were planning a very sensitive murder. On March 
24 [1980] they killed Monsignor Romero— after a big meeting of peo- 
ple who were giving money to the FAN and also gave instruction on 
the action to take place. 11 

Santivanez realized that the Salvadoran ultra-right ; s international 
links went far beyond just Sandoval's MLN. 

The DAubuisson documents indicate who started the [Salvadoran] 
death squads. They show that Nicaraguan National Guardsmen from 
Somoza's time worked with the death squads. 

This charge is lent credence by the testimony of Hector Frances, 
the Argentine military intelligence officer who defected in 1982. He 
and a team of his countrymen were in Central America at the time ; 
working with anti-communist groups in Honduras, Costa Rica ; EI 
Salvador ; and Guatemala ; as well as organizing exiled National 
Guardsmen from the defeated Nicaraguan Somoza dictatorship. All 
this was done in Guatemala in conjunction with Mario Sandoval 
Alarcon, Leonel Sisniega ; and Roberto D'Aubuisson. The Argentines 
who were sent to EI Salvador also helped the rightists perfect their 
counterterror techniques. They furnished a manual that instructed 
counterterrorists to "liquidate all those who could bear a grudge 
against you"; in other words ; when killing a subversive, kill his 
whole family so as not to leave any revenge-seekers behind. After- 
ward, in an interview with Becklund, D'Aubuisson had nothing but 
praise for the Argentines: "They were here a very short time, but 
that time was very helpful [because] they tried to transmit their ex- 
periences ; tell people and recommend to them, act this way and that, 
use this system, coordinate information and analyze it this way." 12 



Sandoval also cast his eye south to assist his Salvadoran compa- 
triots. In early 1980, he sent two of his nephews, David Ernesto 
"Neto" Panama and Carlos Midence Pivaral (the latter a member of 
the Guatemalan chapter of CAL), to meet with the military leaders 
of Paraguay, Chile, and Argentina. There they were to be briefed on 
how best to carry out an unconventional war in Central America. 
"Sandoval," according to Pyes, "provided them with introductory 
letters to high officials in the Argentine Army, the Commander-in- 
Chief in Paraguay, the head of Uruguayan intelligence (where D ; Au- 
buisson had studied), and officials in Chile. 

Panama said they took extensive notes in each of the meetings on 
methods of psychological war and other anli-guerrilla strategies. Af- 
terward, he said, he wrote a report of about 25 pages for D'Aubuisson, 
who relayed it "to the right people in the [Salvadoran] Army." 13 

Today, U.S. diplomats in the area profess little knowledge of the 
interrelationships among Central America's death squads; they blame 
their ignorance on a pull-back of CIA personnel under President 
Carter during the crucial period of death squad violence. One diplo- 
mat stationed in El Salvador in 1985, however, agreed that such 
cooperative actions were possible. "I lend some credence to the idea 
of regional or international affiliations," he said. "There are well-to- 
do businessmen who have branches in other countries. They travel 
a lot and intermarry. The contacts were there." 

Ten days after the assassination of Archbishop Romero, D'Au- 
buisson was in Washington, D.C., where he was received by several 
New Right groups and conservative congressmen and senators. In a 
meeting room of the House of Representatives, he announced the 
formation of the Broad National Front (FAN). He also used the plat- 
form afforded him by his American sympathizers to launch an attack 
on the Carter Administration. 

In order to define the State Department policy, we could use this 
axiom: who is a communist? Those who consciously or uncon- 
sciously collaborate with the Soviet cause. We can ascertain that pres- 
ent [U.S.] State Department policy toward Central America has 
candidly favored communist infiltration. 14 

When the cashiered major returned to El Salvador, he was "on a 



202 



roll." In May he sent a videotape to the nation's army garrisons 
attacking the moderate members of the junta as communists. His 
principal target was the head of the junta. Colonel Arnulfo Majano. 

The next week Majano retaliated, arresting D'Aubuisson and a 
dozen of his followers for conspiring to overthrow the government. 
Also seized were documents so damaging that it briefly appeared to 
be the end of "Major Bob/' 

One item captured was the diary of Rafael Alvaro Saravia, a 
D'Aubuisson crony. In addition to listing expenses incurred in buy- 
ing explosives and weapons, in taking trips to Guatemala, and in the 
"washing of vehicles/ 7 the diary listed the conspirator's code names, 
phone numbers, donations, and leadership positions.* 

The diary was so incriminating that U.S. Ambassador Robert 
White called it "evidence that is compelling, if not 100 percent con- 
clusive," that D'Aubuisson was responsible for the murder of Arch- 
bishop Romero the previous month. "In these documents," the 
ambassador told the Senate Foreign Relations Committee in April 
1981, "there are over a hundred names of people who are partici- 
pating both within the Salvadoran military as active conspirators 
against the Government, and also the names of people living in the 
United States and in Guatemala City who are actively funding the 
death squads." 

The move to neutralize D'Aubuisson backfired disastrously; within 
a week, a military judge released the former major from prison, call- 
ing the evidence against him "lacking in merit." 

It was the death knell for the progressive junta. The same day, 
Colonel Majano was removed as its chief, and by year's end he was 
ousted from power altogether by rightist military officers. During 
1980, when an estimated ten thousand people were killed, most of 
the other junta moderates resigned and left the country, citing their 
inability to stop either the armed forces' atrocities or the death squads. 
Most now live in exile or have gone underground to join the leftist 
guerrilla coalition. 

As the influence of the reformers waned in 1980, "the anti- 
subversive operations began to turn out better," D'Aubuisson told 

"The entry for March 15, in which the purchase of boxes of ammunition is 
discussed, is fairly typical; "9 boxes 357 Magnum, 1 box .380, 2 half boxes .45, 
20 9 mm. boxes, 21 shotgun boxes." 



203 



Craig Pyes in 1983 ; since the military could now operate them 
directly. 

Pyes and Becklund got confirmation of this "improvement" when 
they obtained and published excerpts of an internal Salvadoran right- 
ist report. 

On June 17, 1980 ; nine months after the [reformist] coup, a right- 
wing intelligence analyst code-named "Alpha" penned a memo ex- 
pressing satisfaction with the new direction of the war. It read: 

"The military operations of the armed forces now are more effective 
and they are attacking neurological points of the enemy, destroying 
important sections of their organizational structure. Finally, the Salva- 
doran Army is making battle outside the scheme of conventional 
war." 15 

One American diplomat in El Salvador attempted to explain the 
savagery of the period as something necessary to break the power of 
the guerrillas. "The 'dirty war' theory certainly had some adherents 
here in 1979 to 1981," he said. "There were people willing to kill a 
lot of people to eliminate the supporters of the FMLN [guerrilla fac- 
tion]. The horror years of '80 and '81 had a lot to do with breaking 
the FMLN in the city." 

But the diplomat disagreed with other observers about the ran- 
domness of the death squads. "It wasn't indiscriminate, but it was 
done with a very fine net." 

Having survived his confrontation with Majano, and with El Sal- 
vador's unconventional war going full force, D'Aubuisson returned 
to Washington in July 1980. He was accompanied by Orlando de 
Sola, an active member of El Salvador's "Fourteen Families" oligar- 
chy who was heavily funding D'Aubuisson. Because of evidence that 
linked D'Aubuisson to a coup attempt and to death threats against 
American diplomats, the Carter Administration refused his visa; this 
necessitated the two Salvadorans' entering the United States illegally. 
The technicality didn't seem to bother their New Right supporters; 
both men met with officials of the Heritage Foundation and the 
Council for Inter-American Security and were honored guests at a 
Washington conference cohosted by the American Security Council 
and the American Legion. Attending the conference was Represen- 
tative Larry McDonald. 



Z04 



Two months later, D ; Aubuisson went to Buenos Aires to attend 
the 1980 conference of the Latin affiliate of the World Anti-Commu- 
nist League. Presiding over the CAL conference was a former general 
of the Argentine army, General Suarez Mason. Also in attendance 
was Bolivian Colonel Luis Garcia Meza, a neo-fascist officer who 
months before had seized control of his country in a bloody coup, 
assisted by the Argentine military and bankrolled by his nation's 
cocaine kingpins. The "distinguished" speakers at the conference 
were President-for-Life General Alfredo Stroessner of Paraguay; Gen- 
eral Jorge Rafael Videla, president of Argentina; and Mario Sandoval 
Alarcon from Guatemala.* 

By the close of the three-day summit, the conference had unani- 
mously passed several resolutions, including a call for "the explusion 
of the Jesuits [from Latin America] for their being Marxist neo-colo- 
nizers" and for "organizing the rural guerrillas under the pretext of 
evangelizing." They also condemned President Jimmy Carter for "fa- 
voring the advance of Marxism in Latin America and the so-called 
policy of human rights, using it as a political weapon against those 
governments who combat with efficiency the communist subversion 
in all its forms." The CAL officers also accused the human rights 
commissions of the Organization of American States and the United 
Nations, as well as Amnesty International, for having "Marxist in- 
clinations." 16 

Accompanying D'Aubuisson to the September conference in Bue- 
nos Aires was Luis Angel Lagos, a member of the National Assembly 
for the PCN and a former official of ORDEN. "We are in a perma- 
nent struggle," Lagos thundered, "under the motto that the only 
good Communist that will be left in the country . . . will be a dead 
Communist." 17 

He then lauded the examples recently set by Latin America's fore- 
most authorities on dealing with subversion through unconventional 
warfare: Argentina, Bolivia, Chile, and Uruguay. 

In his own speech, D'Aubuisson echoed the CAL resolutions, 
while citing examples of the problems specifically facing El Salvador. 

*Today Suarez Mason is a fugitive from Argentina, where he is wanted on 
charges relating to his involvement in the Argentine "dirty war." Colonel Garcia 
Meza is wanted by American drug-enforcement authorities for his participation 
in cocaine-trafficking, and General Videla is in a Buenos Aires prison serving a 
life sentence for ordering illegal detention, torture, and mass murder. 



20$ 

His participation in the CAL meeting in Buenos Aires was an im- 
portant "career" move for D'Aubuisson; there he met and got to be 
on personal terms with some of the Latin American rightists who 
had been helping their Salvadoran comrades for many years. 

Francisco Jose "Chachi" Guerrero, El Salvador's Supreme Court 
chief justice, is an amiable man who has been involved in his na- 
tion's fractious politics for decades. A top PCN leader and an official 
under successive governments, he was appointed to his present office 
by President Jose Napoleon Duarte in 1984 as part of a political 
payoff in which Duarte was given the PCN votes in the second 
electoral runoff that would give him a majority in the National As- 
sembly. 

Guerrero craves political gossip, which serves ultimately to per- 
petuate his political strength. He also maintains a strong interest in 
the work of the World Anti-Communist League. 

Before entering his spacious office in the modem Supreme Court 
building in San Salvador, one passes stacks of Taiwanese propaganda 
and booklets containing speeches given at League conferences. Asked 
if there was any significance in the overwhelming predominance of 
League literature in the lobby, Guerrero just smiles. "No, I haven't 
attended any of their conferences. I just don't like anti's." 

But the Supreme Court justice knows many of those who are in 
the League. In the 1970s, when Guerrero was minister of the presi- 
dency, he was introduced to Rafael Rodriguez, the leader of the Mex- 
ican Tecos and its chief emissary. "Rodriguez," he said, "invited me 
to visit Guadalajara." 

Their mutual friend who made the introduction was Luis Angel 
Lagos, another PCN leader and at that time secretary of information 
to the presidency. Guerrero described Lagos as "very well-connected" 
to the Tecos and ultimately to the leadership of the World Anti- 
Communist League. "It seemed that what they [Tecos] wanted was 
economic help for an anti-communist publicity campaign," Guerrero 
recalled. "He [Rodriguez] seemed like a very nice man, but I declined 
to go. 

"They [the League] came here to organize them [Salvadoran anti- 
communists] and take them to Taiwan, things like that. . . . After 
they go to Taiwan, they give them I don't know how many dollars 



106 



to publish things against communism. And they come back with 
programs for the anti-communist campaign." 18 

Colonel Santivanez had a different impression of the Tecos. While 
he was still the head of military intelligence, they came to offer him 
their services. 

They offered to get people for us. They offered everything: guns, 
intelligence, people to do the killings, but they wanted money in 
advance. They even offered to get rid of people in the States. They 
bragged that they had a death list for the United States, but hadn't 
gotten anyone yet because they still had to work out the logistics. 19 

Santivanez claims the Tecos' services were never contracted; instead, 
the Mexicans went to the private sector. 

It was also at the 1980 CAL conference in Buenos Aires that D'Au- 
buisson forged closer ties to the American New Right; "observing" 
the conference were Margo Carlisle, legislative aide to Senator James 
McClure (R-Idaho) and staff director of the Republican Conference 
of the U.S. Senate, and John Carbaugh, a former housemate of 
Roger Pearson and in 1980 an aide to Senator Jesse Helms (R-North 
Carolina). These two Americans would later play a tremendously 
important role in "repackaging" the Salvadoran death squad leader. 

On the night of Ronald Reagan's election as president in Novem- 
ber 1980, the rightists in El Salvador paraded in the streets. After- 
ward, the bloodbath began. "The most horrifying events in El 
Salvador," a career American diplomat in San Salvador recalls, "took 
place between Reagan's election and his inauguration." 

In that two-month period, the level of terror in El Salvador soared, 
with Americans becoming targets for the first time. 

In November, five prominent leftist politicians meeting in San 
Salvador were abducted and murdered; their mutilated bodies were 
found on the outskirts of the city the next day. 

In December, three American nuns and a lay worker were brutally 
raped and murdered by National Guard soldiers. 

In the same month, John Sullivan, a freelance American journalist, 
disappeared the day after he arrived in El Salvador. His body was 
finally found in 1983; a forensic specialist determined that he had 
been killed by a stick of dynamite taped to his stomach. 

In January, the head of the Salvadoran agrarian reform agency and 



Z07 



two American labor advisers from the American Institute for Free 
Labor Development (AIFLD) were shot to death in the coffee shop 
of San Salvador's Sheraton Hotel. Close associates and friends of 
D'Aubuisson, who were at the scene ; were implicated in ordering 
the killings. 

The American diplomat assigns a large portion of the blame for 
the savagery of that time to junketeering American New Rightists 
who claimed association with the incoming Reagan Administration. 

[Jesse] Helms and others were coming through here and saying that 
human rights are not part of Reagan's agenda, that communism has 
to be stamped out. A lot of people were claiming to speak for the 
Administration, many of whom did not later get jobs. 

There were extensive contacts with D'Aubuisson and Helms' aides, 
like John Carbaugh, Deborah DeMoss and Chris Manion. I have heard 
that they were instrumental in forming ARENA'S [Nationalist Repub- 
lican Alliance] gimmickry and sloganry, and the "Republicanizing" in 
the name. 

Helms's involvement with D'Aubuisson was especially offensive 
to this American diplomat. Some of the American conservatives 
might have been able to profess ignorance of D'Aubuisson's dark 
history, but not Helms; as a ranking member of the Senate Foreign 
Relations Committee, the senator from North Carolina had had ac- 
cess to U.S. Embassy cables that had been detailing D'Aubuisson's 
involvement in various killings for some time. 

Nor could the Reagan Administration claim it was uninformed. 
"From the first days in office," former Ambassador Robert White 
testified to the House Subcommittee on Western Hemispheric Affairs 
in 1984, "the Reagan White House knew— beyond any reasonable 
doubt— that Roberto D'Aubuisson planned and ordered the assassi- 
nation of Archbishop Oscar Arnulfo Romero." 

All of the . . . information was reported to Washington. 

The Reagan Administration made a major decision, for which it 
must answer, when it chose not to use embassy reports and other 
materials to move against the Salvadoran exiles who target victims 
and fund death squads. The Reagan White House took on a great 
responsibility when it chose to conceal the identity of Archbishop 
Romero's murderer and not to use the evidence gathered by the em- 
bassy to write finish to the . . . ambitions of Roberto D'Aubuisson. 



Z08 



The former ambassador was characteristically blunt in his conclu- 
sion. 

The administration of President Carter classified ex-Major Roberto 
D'Aubuisson, accurately, as a terrorist, a murderer, and a leader of 
death squads. As Ambassador, I denied him access to the United States 
Embassy and succeeded in having him barred from our country. 

Shortly after President Reagan took office, this administration over- 
turned this policy and began the process of rehabilitating ex-Major 
D'Aubuisson. The Reagan Administration granted D'Aubuisson a visa 
to enter the United States, made him an honored guest at our Embassy 
and saw to it that he met regularly with high-ranking Administration 
officials and visiting Senators and Congressmen. The legislators were, 
of course, unaware of the strength of evidence against D'Aubuisson. * 

American conservatives with close links to the intelligence com- 
munity have offered a simple explanation as to why the evidence 
was ignored: in the beginning, the Reagan Administration wanted 
to salvage D'Aubuisson's reputation because he was seen as a coun- 
terweight to the liberal inclinations of the Christian Democrat Party. 
In the new American president's eyes, the Christian Democrats were 
tainted for having participated in the ill-fated 1979 revolutionary 
junta, which had seemed to favor the left. The Administration could 
defend this stand by citing the findings of the so-called White Paper, 
"Communist Interference in El Salvador," of February 1981, a con- 
troversial report based largely on forged documents that D'Aubuisson 
had furnished. 20 

D'Aubuisson showed his gratitude to his new American benefac- 
tors in a strange way. On March 10, 1981, he held a press conference 
and announced that, after talks with Reagan Administration officials, 
he had received approval for a coup to install a military government. 
The United States denied this, and the next day the Embassy was 
sprayed with gunfire. 

"This incident has all the hallmarks of a D'Aubuisson operation 
. . . /' Frederick Chapin ; the American charge d'affaires, said, refer- 

*On this last point, Ambassador White appears to be giving Congress a graceful 
way out. The fact is that by the spring of 1981, D'Aubuisson's involvement 
with death squads had been repeatedly discussed by the media of all political 
bents for over a year. The only legislators meeting D'Aubuisson who could 
have been unaware of the strong evidence against him were those that hadn't 
read a newspaper since February 1980. 



209 



ring to the Embassy attack. "We have no intention of being intimi- 
dated." 

In 1981, D'Aubuisson entered El Salvador's political process with 
a vengeance, bragging of his "high connections" to the recently 
sworn-in Reagan Administration. Having done away with his semi- 
clandestine FAN, he announced the formation of the Nationalist Re- 
publican Alliance (ARENA) party. That he made the announcement 
in Guatemala was not an accident. 

By all accounts, Mario Sandoval Alarcon was the driving force 
behind the creation of this new party. It was he who had convinced 
the Salvadorans to develop a genuine political front party with a base 
broader than that of the FAN and to branch out from exclusive con- 
centration on paramilitary or death squad operations. To this end, 
"Mico" is said to have raised several million dollars in Miami through 
relatives and contacts there; wealthy Salvadoran exiles in Miami also 
chipped in. ARENA was the result. 

D'Aubuisson's new political vehicle was a virtual carbon copy of 
Sandoval's MLN. The ARENA slogan, "God, Fatherland and Lib- 
erty," was an MLN inspiration, as were the red, white, and blue 
party colors. "It's not new," Sandoval explained to reporter Pyes. 
"It's a copy of the communists. The parties of the right in Central 
America have to have a single political organization." 

After its creation, Carlos Midence Pivaral, Sandoval's nephew and 
fellow World Anti-Communist League member, could exclaim to 
Pyes, "ARENA, that's my baby."* 

Like other MLN members, he [Midence] refers to ARENA as a "copy 
of the MLN in organization, in ideology and in symbolism." 

Said Midence, who advised the Salvadorans on underground tech- 
niques, 1980 was a year that the Salvadoran rightists spent studying 
how to get the army to work with them. 

"In 1981, they got their diploma." 21 

Although primary responsibility for the creation of ARENA might 
lie with Sandoval, Becklund and Pyes also fingered an international 
organization to which the MLN leader belonged: "The inspiration 
for the spread of militant anti-communist parties worldwide can be 

* According to Vycx, Midence .spurts a Nazi medallion that he says was given 
to him In Argentina by the former private secretary of Joseph Cioebtiels, I lltler's 
propaganda minister 



210 



credited in part to the Taiwan-based World Anti-Communist League 
(WACL)." 

If it was the Guatemalans who gave D'Aubuisson the idea for 
ARENA ; it was American conservatives who made it a viable poli- 
tical party. MacKenzie-McCheyne ; a Washington advertising firm, 
took on the task of spreading the word in the United States about 
this new "anti-communist" party. Judy Bayshore ; a MacKenzie- 
McCheyne employee ; shuttled Orlando de Sola around Washington. 
Margo Carlisle ; Senator McClure's legislative aide who had attended 
the 1980 CAL conference ; arranged for Ricardo Valdivieso ; an 
ARENA cofounder ; to make the rounds of American New Right 
organizations. Valdivieso was invited by New Right elections con- 
sultant Paul Weyrich to attend his seminar on effective political cam- 
paigning in January 1982 and by Senator Helms to testify before the 
Senate Foreign Relations Committee. Meanwhile ; two Helms aides ; 
John Carbaugh and Chris Manion ; shuttled between San Salvador 
and Washington ; advising D ; Aubuisson on techniques to make 
ARENA a respectable "democratic" entity. 

While the American conservatives scrambled to rehabilitate the 
former major ; the death toll in EI Salvador soared to an estimated 
fifteen thousand in 1981. Most of the murders were the work of the 
right-wing death squads that D ; Aubuisson or his cohosts in the se- 
curity forces controlled. Nevertheless ; by March 1982, D'Aubuis- 
son's new image had been completed. Running in the U.S.-financed 
elections, "Major Bob" won and so many assembly seats were filled 
with D'Aubuisson's allies that they controlled the government. 
ARENA also gained control of the government Institute for Agrarian 
Transformation, which was in charge of redistributing land from the 
oligarchies to the peasants. The institute had once been headed by 
Jose Rodolfo Viera, the man assassinated, along with the two Amer- 
ican labor advisers, in the Sheraton Hotel by D'Aubuisson cronies 
the year before. After the elections, the land reform program ground 
to a halt. 

Suddenly concerned by the degree of power the ultra-right had 
gained in the elections, the United States forced in an interim presi- 
dent, a conservative banker and wealthy landowner named Alvaro 
Magana, to forestall D ; Aubuisson becoming president. "It took the 
U.S. a long time to realize it had enemies on the right," an American 



Z11 



diplomat in San Salvador said. "Before, it wasn't taken too seriously. 
Then things started to happen." 

Reagan Administration reaction to ARENA's successes in 1982 
was essentially one of damage control. D'Aubuisson, now president 
of the National Assembly, and the military officers allied with him 
gradually came under scrutiny as the public clamor over the atrocities 
rose. Much of the New Right, however, continued to stand stead- 
fastly by their Central American fellow "anti-communist"; in Janu- 
ary 1983, D'Aubuisson received a letter of support signed by Paul 
Weyrich, the House Republican Study Committee, the Conservative 
Caucus, and the Moral Majority, among others. 

In December 1983, following a resurgence of death squad activity, 
Vice-President George Bush made a special visit to EI Salvador with 
the message that the death squads had to end. "If these death squad 
murders continue," he told President Magana, "you will lose the 
support of the American people, and that would indeed be a great 
tragedy." 

Although Bush's moral outrage was rather belated, a scaling-down 
of the killings was the only way the Reagan Administration could 
certify El Salvador as "improving" its human rights record, which 
was a necessity for gaining congressional approval for sending aid 
and military advisers. 

Bush handed the Salvadoran president a list of names of officers 
and civilians that the United States believed to be behind the vio- 
lence. Within weeks, several of the officers were sent out of the 
country into diplomatic exile posts, while others were promoted or 
transferred within the military to neutralize their activity. "When 
the death squad violence came back in October [1983]," President 
Magana told the authors in May 1984, "and we had doubts about 
certain people, we warned them, and there were no more [violent 
acts]." 22 

Magafia's casual admission belied the perverse intimacy of the 
Salvadoran "system." He had, he said, been able to use his contacts 
to end some of the death squad violence; he didn't, however, have 
the power to put an end to their organizations or punish those re- 
sponsible. 

» » • 



ZiZ 

"Rafael" is in a profession where "you find out too much for your 
own good." 

A cab driver in the town of Sonsonate in eastern El Salvador ; he 
has been pressed into service on numerous occasions, an unwilling 
accomplice to some of the violence that has shattered his country. 

Twice his cab has been commandeered by guerrillas ; once when 
they killed the mayor of the village of Armenia and again when 
they attacked the telephone office in Metalio ; near Sonsonate. "Ra- 
fael" speaks mostly about his military clients, though. 

They never pay, you know. They just come and say, "Let's go." I 
go; I know not to ask questions. 

They direct me to a house and say, "Wait here." I hear the bang- 
bang-bang, and I know they have just killed someone, but I look 
away. 1 don't see anything. 

Other times, they'll come back with a person and they tell me to 
drive and then they kill him somewhere far away. It is for this that 
my family wants me to stop driving a cab. 

When asked by one of the authors if these army killers have given 
themselves a death squad name, "Rafael" laughed. "They are all 
Section Two [Intelligence]. There's one in the National Guard, the 
army; they all have them." 

The driver became uneasy when asked about the Metalio com- 
mander, Sergeant Rivas. 

"I understand he's very strict." 

"What about his zone? Is there fighting? 

"No. It's very tranquil." 

"How does Rivas keep it tranquil?" 

"If someone fingers you as a guerrilla, Section Two takes you out 
and shoots you." 

"On orders from Rivas?" 

"I understand he's very strict." 

If President Magana could not completely control the death squads, 
neither can his successor, Jose Napoleon Duarte, the liberal Christian 
Democrat who took over in June 1984. Despite the American-de- 
manded reshuffling of some key commanders believed to be respon- 
sible for organizing the death squads, Duarte is impeded from moving 
too quickly against what he calls the "Nazi fascists" of his country. 



213 



The reason is simple: with the assistance of the Guatemalan MLN, 
the World Anti-Communist League and the American New Right, 
among others, the "Nazi fascists" are now incorporated under the 
political banner of ARENA. As ARENA is the chief opposition party, 
a Duarte move against it would be seen as a partisan attack on what 
is now a "legitimate" political movement. 

Duarte's dilemma is revealed in a 1984 interview he gave Playboy 
magazine: 

PLAYBOY: When you speak of Nazi Fascists, are you talking about the poli- 
tical forces of Roberto D'Aubuisson? 

DUARTE: Definitely. I have no problem in saying that he has been a key 
factor in this campaign of destabilization. There is proof of that. 

PLAYBOY: But, specifically, are you calling D'Aubuisson a Nazi Fascist? 

DUARTE: I am absolutely convinced of that. 

PLAYBOY: But if D'Aubuisson and his followers in the ARENA party are 
Nazi Fascists, and if, as you say, the death squads are linked to them, 
then certainly these groups could be outlawed if for no other reason 
than that they are armed. 

DUARTE: Not necessarily. ARENA as a political institution is one thing; the 
armed groups are another. 23 

It would seem that the Reagan Administration would have other 
reasons to regret its earlier acceptance of D ; Aubuisson. In June 1984, 
after Duarte had been elected president, the former major appeared 
with Senator Helms, claiming that the CIA had "bought the elec- 
tion" and that the U.S. ambassador, Thomas Pickering, had been 
"the purchasing agent." Several days later, after D'Aubuisson was 
accused by American officials of plotting to kill Pickering, Helms was 
used to placate the hot-headed former major. 

The compelling evidence linking him with a conspiracy to murder 
an American envoy notwithstanding, the Administration soon made 
its peace with D'Aubuisson. In December 1984 he was given a tour- 
ist visa to visit Washington, where he spoke before the Young Amer- 
icans for Freedom at Georgetown University. 

In the past two years, the morale and tactics of the Salvadoran 
armed forces have greatly improved in the war against the guerrillas. 
The man many consider pivotal in this turnaround was Lieutenant 
Colonel Domingo Monterrosa. In an Interview with one of the au- 



214 

thors in October 1984, Monterrosa gave some of the credit to the 
Kuomintang government in Taiwan; the bronze plaque on his desk 
at the Third Infantry Batallion headquarters in San Miguel reported 
that he had successfully completed the "31st. Political Warfare 
Course" at the Political Warfare Cadres Academy in Peitou. 

Taiwan has great if unreported influence in El Salvador. The Tai- 
wanese ambassador is the dean of the diplomatic corps and sits at 
the head of every important state function. Since the early 1970s, as 
in Guatemala, Taiwan has offered select Salvadoran military officers 
and a number of politicians expense-paid trips to study political and 
psychological warfare in Taiwan. The course graduates include most 
of the current top military officers and regional field commanders. 
Lieutenant Colonel Monterrosa attended the academy from Septem- 
ber to November 1978.* 

"What we really admired in Taiwan," Monterrosa said, "was the 
way the government was organized and the control they held over 
the people. It was like communism of this side. 

"If we could have, from then on; organized a unit of political 
warfare in every field, we could have focused more objectively on 
the problems of the country and won against the expansion of com- 
munism." 

Monterrosa complained that, although he and his fellow officers 
returned from Taiwan "very enthusiastic" about what they had 
learned, their suggestions weren't listened to by their senior officers. 

When he was asked if one of the things he and his comrades had 
learned was the use of psychological terror against the civilian pop- 
ulation, Monterrosa responded with a quick and quiet "yes."t 

"In Guatemala," he added, "the Taiwanese did similar work, and 
the Guatemalans are applying it today. Another thing we were taught 
was how to project ourselves to the civilian population and win 
them over. 

"We were taught war of the masses." 

Several days later, one of the authors traveled with the lieutenant 
colonel into the rebel-contested hills of Morazan department, near 

* Monterrosa also attended a Unification Church CAUSA conference in Uruguay 
in February 1984. 

tMonterrosa had already applied that aspect of his training in the field. In De- 
cember 1981, troops under his command massacred an estimated one thousand 
civilians in and around the village of Mozote. 



U5 

the Honduran border, and had the chance to see Monterrosa put his 
Taiwan-style warfare into action. 

The chopper descended onto a jungle hilltop where, the day be- 
fore, an advance platoon had flushed the area of guerrillas and orga- 
nized some two hundred peasants to come to the clearing. 

"We know the subversives have infiltrated these people/' Mon- 
terrosa told the coauthor as the helicopter settled down, "because 
every time we are attacked in this area, all we find are the peasants." 

For several hours, sitting behind a table and using a hand-held 
microphone, Monterrosa gave the villagers a lesson in consciousness- 
raising. Beside him was a woman "social worker" and a civilian 
psychologist, members of a thirty-person unit, mostly women, who 
had just been trained in psychological warfare and who were slated 
to begin working out of regional barracks throughout El Salvador. 

"We are your true brothers," Monterrosa told the peasants. "We're 
not the caretakers of the rich. Do you see any rich among us? We 
give our blood to the soil, but it's up to you to make it fertile." 

Those gathered, however, seemed more interested in the soccer 
balls that were still in their original gray Spaulding cartons and in 
the boxes of children's clothing that the soldiers had stacked beside 
the table. 

"We are all Indians," the "social worker" shouted when she took 
the microphone, "the real Salvadorans. We're not going to let for- 
eigners [Cubans and Russians] take our land, are we?" 

When she had finished her appeal to nationalism, Monterrosa re- 
turned. 

"A number of you have come up to me and told me you are 
having trouble with the muchachos [guerrillas]. I know they're here 
among you. If any have any problems or something to tell us, please 
come and do it. This is for the good of your villages." 

The peasants stirred uneasily. 

"Tell me Fm not lying. Isn't it true what I hear, that the guerrillas 
have been here among you? But even so, I haven't sent the army in 
here. I haven't called in the air force to bomb you, have I?" 

One by one, the people stepped forward. As they did, the soldiers 
distributed clothing and threw out the soccer balls. 

"Is this Taiwanese?" the coauthor asked as Monterrosa wrote 
down the testimonies of the villagers. 

"This is it." 



lib 



On the day after the coauthor left the field of operations and 
returned to San Salvador ; the forty-four-year-old lieutenant colonel 
moved on to continue his "war of the masses." As Monterrosa's 
helicopter sped over the countryside, laden with other high military 
officers and some civilians, it was blown apart by a bomb. All aboard 
were killed instantly. Another morning in El Salvador. 



SIXTEEN 



Were some CAL members linked to the death squads? I be- 
lieve it's possible. This is a real war taking place in Central 
America. It's hot; it's not cold. 

J&ises Jesus de Ulloa Duarte, 
Head of Honduran CAL chapter, 
Tegucigalpa, March 1985 



The general looked about the hotel conference room in San 
Jose, Costa Rica, and ; as if answering all the accusatory questions at 
once, responded plaintively, "I'll leave my judgment to the judgment 
of history." 

"Did you order the disappearance of political dissidents while you 
held office?" a reporter in the stuffy room asked. 

"I can't answer for every disappeared person in the country/' he 
replied. 

Light-skinned and stocky, General Alvarez spoke resolutely and 
without apology to the assembled journalists, his forehead beading 
with sweat under his receding hairline. He had called the press con- 
ference to explain his fall from power. Three days earlier, he had 
been commander in chief of the armed forces of Honduras; today, 
he was just another exile, ousted at gunpoint by fellow officers and 
put on a plane out of the country. 

Out of his uniform, in a tailored gray suit, the once-powerful and 
feared Honduran military chief seemed physically smaller somehow 
and not at all fearsome. The man they had begun calling "the new 



218 



Somoza" was almost philosophical as he explained the reason for 
his humiliation. Instead, he called attention to the anti-communist 
fight. 

"My country is in a delicate stage right now, as is all of Central 
America. We need unity, we need tranquility, and we need stability 
to confront the mortal enemy. And we all know who that is." 

The history of the rise and fall of General Gustavo Alvarez Mar- 
tinez is the history of modern Honduras. Before him, the nation lived 
in relative peace, sidestepped by the violence that wracked most of 
the rest of Central America. With him, Honduras was dragged into 
the fray and joined the list of nations conducting "dirty war" to deal 
with its dissidents. After him, the country is paralyzed by internal 
power struggles and stands on the precipice of war with Nicaragua. 
To a unique degree in Central America, the "white hand" of just 
one man, Alvarez Martinez, was everywhere in Honduras, and his 
meteoric ascension to power, assisted by many elements of the World 
Anti-Communist League, is the key to explaining the nation's pres- 
ent state of crisis. 

Almost singlehandedly Alvarez brought this traditionally peaceful 
nation into the vortex of Central American strife. The Honduran 
death squads that took some three hundred lives in four years were 
his creation. Honduras's current status as a front-line state and the 
main staging ground for the Reagan Administration's campaign to 
topple the leftist government in Nicaragua is a direct result of Alvar- 
ez's role as the CIA's errand boy. 

If the term "banana republic" is an appropriate description of any 
nation, it is certainly Honduras. Sandwiched between Guatemala, EI 
Salvador, and Nicaragua, it is a mountainous country that lacks nat- 
ural resources and is populated largely by subsistence farmers. For 
decades, it was used virtually as a giant plantation by the American 
multinational corporations Standard Fruit and United Fruit; these 
companies built most of whatever economic infrastructure exists— 
the ports, railways, roads, even some of its towns. 

It was also these companies that kept Honduras woefully poor, 
the poorest nation in Central America, only slightly better off than 
Bolivia and Haiti, the two worst "basket case" nations in the West- 
ern hemisphere. The fruit companies ran the country, breaking its 



Z19 



labor unions, naming its military presidents in fraudulent elections, 
and silencing anyone who might disturb their monopoly. 

In a perverse way, Honduras's traditional poverty has also been 
one of its blessings. Because it was too poor to create or support an 
oligarchy of a few wealthy families, it has escaped much of the 
turmoil and civil strife that has plagued its neighbors for most of this 
century. When EI Salvador erupted in the 1930s, Guatemala in the 
1950s and 1960s, and Nicaragua in the 1970s, Honduras remained 
comparatively serene. 

That ended in the late 1970s when the leftist Sandinistas trying 
to topple the Somoza dynasty in neighboring Nicaragua used Hon- 
duras as a base and staging ground for infiltration of fighters and 
weapons. The success of the Nicaraguan revolution in 1979 chal- 
lenged and beat the region's conservative political and military status 
quo for the first time in modern history. The victory gave fresh 
sustenance and inspiration to other struggling insurgencies. In the 
years since, the ramifications have affected all of Central America's 
political systems. 

In the jubilant days following the collapse of Anastasio Somoza's 
regime, some of the Sandinista's foremost secret collaborators 
emerged from anonymity, revealing their previously clandestine sup- 
port networks both in Nicaragua and in other countries, including 
Honduras. People who had discreetly worked for the revolutionaries 
while Somoza was still in power suddenly went public as committed 
revolutionaries. In Guatemala, EI Salvador, and Honduras, this reck- 
less "coming out of the closet" was to prove a fatal error, for the 
ultra-right was mobilizing to exterminate the "communist threat" 
wherever it existed. 

General Alvarez did not invent Honduran paramilitary squads, but 
he was the man who streamlined them, integrated them into the 
armed forces, and allowed them to conduct a "dirty war." 

In late 1979 and early 1980, three previously unknown groups— 
the National Front for the Defense of Democracy, the Honduran 
Anti-Communist Movement (MACHO) and the Anti-Communist 
Combat Army (ELA)— publicly threatened to assassinate leftist lead- 
ers. Although many thought these shadowy organizations were 
composed of civilian goons bankrolled by some of Honduras's few 



zzo 



wealthy, they were actually operating under the orders of the govern- 
ment Public Security Forces (FUSEP). 

"Ephron" is a FUSEP agent. Well-dressed and in his late twenties, 
he exudes a sense of easy self-confidence and has the appearance of 
an upwardly mobile junior businessman. Only the unusually intense 
stare of his brown eyes betrays his fear. He has "blood on his hands," 
is compromised, and knows he can be used again. In the last year, 
he hasn't received an order to "return to duty" but fears he could at 
any time. 

In several interviews with one of the authors in 1985, "Ephron" 
described his role in "the war the armed forces can never admit." 
His testimony is that of a man involved in the Honduran death 
squads since their inception. 

In 1979, he was recruited into the FUSEP anti-communist cam- 
paign by a young officer, Alexander Hernandez, whom he had 
known several years earlier during his obligatory stint in the army. 
His first mission was to spy on an acquaintance whom Hernandez 
believed to be a leftist collaborator. After this relatively innocuous 
beginning, "Ephron" quickly found himself deeply involved, spend- 
ing the next five years as an active operative for the captain. It was 
not until the downfall of Alvarez, Hernandez's mentor and protector, 
that "Ephron" had an excuse to ask for "temporary leave." 

"Ephron's" second assignment was a long-term one, the infiltra- 
tion of the National Autonomous University of Honduras (UNAH), 
located in the high green hills overlooking the capital, Tegucigalpa. 

The Honduran military had long been concerned about leftist con- 
trol of the university. During the Nicaraguan Revolution, one of the 
Sandinistas' key support networks operated from Central America's 
federation of autonomous universities, which are traditional sanctu- 
aries for leftist thinkers, militants, even guerrilla cells. Neither the 
Sandinistas, the Salvadoran left, nor their Honduran counterparts for- 
sook the legal cover for political organizing offered by the universi- 
ties. Their activities in Honduras were so open that in 1977 
Nicaraguan dictator Anastasio Somoza called the school "a commu- 
nist sanctuary" and its rector "the principal promoter of subversion 
and Marxism in the region." 

"The problem the government had with the university," 
"Ephron" explained, "was its autonomy. But we knew that within 
the university, the communists hid weapons and gave training to 



111 



others in making booby traps and bombs. They even hid guerrillas 
there. But since we couldn't enter, the university had to be infil- 
trated." 

After the success of the Sandinista Revolution in 1979, the strident 
leftist pronouncements and activities emanating from the politicized 
National Autonomous University of Honduras became a lightning 
rod for the Marxist-hunting military. The leftist activists were easy 
to spot. In the monthly university publication Presencia Univtrsitaria, 
editorials denounced Somoza and paid homage to Cuba, Sandinista 
revolutionaries, and the Marxist government in Angola. The rector, 
Juan Almendares Bonilla, announced the organization of student bri- 
gades sent from his campus to "help with the reconstruction of Nica- 
ragua" and expressed his university's solidarity with the Sandinista 
revolution. 

It was then that the Honduran government responded. "We placed 
several [Army] officers there as students who were used as bait/ 7 
"Ephron" recounted. "We sent those who had been intelligence chiefs 
in the different battalions to act as decoys so the guerrillas would 
waste their time watching these [men] while others were really 
watching them." 

The real work of surveillance of leftists and recruitment of rightists 
was undertaken by "Ephron" and fellow FUSEP officers. 

There were five of us in the university. The university was a powder 
keg, so it was necessary to form paramilitary units. We classified 
people we figured could work in a shock force. We made up a list of 
people with everything we could find out about them— their families, 
details about their personalities and political tendencies. We were 
looking for impulsive, fanatic people. 

Everything was then handed over to Alexander Hernandez. He 
passed his selections on to the DNI [secret police], and they gave 
weapons to the chosen people from our lists. 

"Ephron" and his four fellow spies chose their "shock forces" 
well; they recruited a number of rightist students belonging to the 
United Democratic University Front (FUUD). The FUUD activists 
would carry out operations for the military if they were supplied. 
"We knew if we gave them arms, they would rise up and take action 
against the Marxists," "Ephron" said. "They are born anti-commu- 
nists, narrow-minded fanatics who take care of things if it becomes 



zzz 



necessary. About forty or fifty were given arms, ammunition and 
training, but they were mostly useful in gathering intelligence." 

Bankrolled by the security forces, the FUUD zealots formed a 
paramilitary arm ; the Anti-Communist Combat Army (ELA). By late 
1979, the campus had become the target of anonymously distributed 
leaflets signed by the ELA. Hooded armed men broke into the admin- 
istration offices at night. Campus watchmen were threatened and 
occasionally beaten. Fear began to circulate on the attractive univer- 
sity grounds. 

"Several foreign professors," former Rector Almendares Bonilla 
recalled, "including an Argentine emigre teaching for us, began to 
receive threatening letters from ELA. These letters told them that if 
they didn't leave the country they would be killed. The Argentine, 
an economics professor, left, afraid for his life." 1 

"Ephron" acknowledged that the student squads he had helped 
create had taken their paramilitary powers beyond the harassment 
of Marxists. "On their own, they have formed groups with their 
own credos and beliefs. Later, using these people was a way for the 
military to kill people they wanted to get rid of without appearing 
as the responsible party." 

By the beginning of 1980, then, civilians working in tandem with 
FUSEP had cemented the basis for a classic death squad network. It 
was Alvarez who would put it into practice, for that year he was 
promoted to chief of FUSEP. 

Colonel Alvarez's promotion coincided with a veritable wave of 
death threats against Rector Almendares Bonilla, faculty members, 
and leftist student leaders. It was also in 1980 that the paramilitary 
squads became death squads. 

In August 1980, Rector Bonilla paid a visit to the head of Armed 
Forces Intelligence, Colonel Leonidas Torres Arias. According to La 
Tribuna, a conservative Honduran newspaper, Torres Arias informed 
the university delegation of the existence of a "death list" and of the 
existence of at least three paramilitary groups, "but because of the 
way these groups work inside and outside the country it is impos- 
sible to control their activities." 

The high military official [Torres Arias] recommended that the 
UNAH ; in view of the danger given these facts, take the necessary 
measures to decrease various activities taking place in the University, 



223 



indicating that the most dangerous are the publication of the official 
newspaper, Presencia Univtrsitaria, activities of solidarity with EI Salva- 
dor [rebels] and labors which certain university students and teachers 
are conducting in rural areas of the country. 2 

Several days later, the entire staff of Presencia Universitaria resigned 
en masse, citing death threats against their lives. Almendares Bonilla 
remained in his job despite the increasing intensity of threats to him- 
self and his family, bomb scares at his office, and gunshots aimed at 
his house at night. "I had to live in different houses for a while," he 
said, "and I took different routes to work every day." 

A number of professors close to the rector were kidnapped by 
hooded men, interrogated, and badly beaten. "One told me after- 
wards that they had interrogated him closely about me. As he had 
been told to do, he left the country. This same man, a FRU [a leftist 
political party to which Almendares Bonilla belongs] militant also 
told Eduardo Lanza, FRU's secretary general, that the squad told him 
he [Lanza] was going to be next. But Lanza didn't take precautions 
and soon afterwards, he was kidnapped and disappeared." 

The psychological terror directed at the UNAH worked; the most 
militant students and professors left or were murdered, and in 1982 
Bonilla lost the rectorship to a rightist in a disputed election. Today 
the FUUD students who were armed by FUSEP brandish Uzis on 
campus to intimidate leftist students. On weekends, they hold target 
practice in the surrounding countryside. "They are in power now," 
"Ephron" said of his student agents. 

"Lobo," who first described the international death squad links to 
one of the authors, was one of "Ephron ; s" operatives in the univer- 
sity campaign. A principal leader of the ELA, Lobo was also a mem- 
ber of the FUUD, the ELA's political front group. Since the FUUD 
was represented in the youth wing of the Latin American Anti-Com- 
munist Confederation (CAL), "Lobo" found himself invited to the 
1980 CAL conference in Buenos Aires. 

Although such death squad luminaries as Mario Sandoval Alarcon 
and Roberto D'Aubuisson were in attendance, the conference hosts 
themselves were the world masters of "dirty war" strategy: the Ar- 
gentine military junta and its official death squad, the Argentine Anti- 
Communist Alliance (AAA). Very soon the Argentines would be 



teaching the Honduran security forces ; and by extension "LoboV ; 
ELA ; their techniques of uncoventional warfare. 

By 1980 ; Argentine advisers were already operating in Honduras ; 
training Honduran police units in "suspect interrogation techniques." 
The junta in Buenos Aires had sent the consultants there to help 
develop an internal security apparatus similar to their own; this mis- 
sion directly benefited an old friend, Colonel Gustavo Alvarez Mar- 
tinez. 

Alvarez had spent several years in Argentina as a student at its 
military college. One of his instructors there was Jorge Rafael Videla 7 
the general who, as Argentina's dictator in the mid-1970s, presided 
over the bloodiest phase of Argentina's anti-subversion war. In 1980 ; 
by the time Alvarez was chief of FUSEP, his former Argentine class- 
mates were high-ranking colonels in the armed forces. "The paramili- 
tary squads were already operating out of FUSEP before Alvarez took 
it over," Victor Meza, a prominent Honduran political analyst told 
one of the authors in 1985 ; "but what he did was to professionalize 
the setup by bringing in the Argentine advisors." 

After the CAL conference in Buenos Aires 7 the Argentine opera- 
tions in Honduras became multifaceted, and they now had a second 
mission: to organize the Honduras-based rebels fighting the Sandi- 
nista regime in Nicaragua. 

When Somoza fell in 1979 ; exiled remnants of his defeated Na- 
tional Guard had fled into Honduras. There, along the piney ridges 
of the frontier, they took up arms against the new regime. The 
presence of these guerrillas afforded Alvarez a golden opportunity. 
Not only could he use these war-seasoned combatants to deal with 
troublemakers in his own country, but their presence in Honduras 
might be used to bolster his own power. He knew that the incoming 
Reagan Administration was planning on taking a much more active 
role against the Sandinista regime; if Alvarez could appear as the 
protector of the contras (counterrevolutionaries), his own importance 
to the Americans would be ensured. 

The first order of business was to make the contras a credible 
fighting force. In late 1980 and early 1981, Argentine advisers were 
installed in safehouses and secret border camps in Honduras to train 
the Nicaraguan exiles in the arts of warfare. Selected contra com- 
manders, along with Honduran secret police officers, were sent to 
Argentina for specialized military and intelligence training. 



ZZ5 



The effect of the Argentine operations in Honduras was dramatic. 
By 1981, Alvarez's paramilitary squads were kidnapping, torturing, 
murdering, and "disappearing" leftist guerrillas and their supporters. 
The contras were also making their presence felt by launching border 
raids into Nicaragua. 

The increased repression in Honduras had been facilitated by a 
restructuring of the paramilitary squads. In 1981, Alvarez created a 
select branch within FUSEP, the Special Operations Command 
(COE), with Argentine help. This new agency was headed by Cap- 
tain Alexander Hernandez. 

Although officially an elite counterinsurgency force, the COE ac- 
tually became the command center of Alvarez's "dirty war." Under 
direct orders from COE officers, the death squad bands that had pre- 
viously been used selectively by FUSEP carried out their program on 
a much greater scale. 

"Ephron" was inducted into this new organization and assigned 
to the Department of Analysis, the intelligence-collection arm of the 
Special Investigations Department of the COE. It was from this Spe- 
cial Investigations Department that Hernandez dispatched the "kill" 
orders to the paramilitary squads. 

"We had safehouses in the whole country," "Ephron" said. "An 
office in the basement of FUSEP [headquarters] was the coordinating 
center for all of them. There was a special number you had to call, 
and the secretary there would give you your operating orders from 
the high command. 

"All of this system is Argentine. They are the ones who have 
perfected it: the safehouses, electric shock, and so on." 

"Ephron" defended the rationale for the Argentine method. 
"When there wasn't enough evidence for a trial, it was necessary to 
work this way. So we formed the network of safehouses to avoid 
having to make legal arrests, since the courts would have liberated 
them in twenty-four hours. Twenty-four hours is not sufficient time 
to interrogate a suspect." 

Once a Honduran suspect was picked up, his fate, like that of his 
Argentine counterpart, was likely to be grim. "The majority of those 
detained ended up in the weeds. . . . When we captured someone we 
took them to the safehouses. These are the ones who disappeared. 
Since we were a secret unit, we even ran into problems from some 
of the other security forces. For example, by accident, some FUSEP 



lib 



guys found one of our clandestine cemeteries in 1982. So we had to 
find another method; the biggest problem all along has been what 
to do with the cadavers." 

"Ephron" claims to have never witnessed any of the killings. 

My job was only collecting intelligence. It was difficult to know how 
many people were killed because that depended on the [particular] 
safehouse where they were taken. Each safehouse had its own zone 
of responsibility. During my time about ten people came through my 
safehouse. 

I saw people interrogated ; but from that to how or when they dis- 
appeared, I don't know. I never had to pull a trigger, although once I 
nearly had to. The real executioners were people of the unit, but one 
didn't know who they were. 

Occasionally during the lengthy interviews, "Ephron" revealed 
more than he had been willing to admit. About the logistical problem 
of body disposal, he explained one method that they eventually de- 
veloped. "We got people, killed them, put their bodies aboard heli- 
copters, and threw them in the Rio Sumpul [the river dividing part 
of Honduras and El Salvador and an area of intense fighting between 
the Salvadoran army and the Salvadoran guerrillas] to make it look 
like the Salvadorans did it. Before dumping them, we would remove 
all ID and put Salvadoran coins in their pockets."* 

Still, "Ephron" defends his actions. "It was necessary to do. These 
people would have torn Honduras down. Most were real commu- 
nists. Anyway, we never detained a person until we had data on 
them. When we got someone, it was when we were sure about 
them." 

Throughout 1981, the counterterror program intensified. Students, 
professors, and union leaders were "disappeared" and buried in secret 
cemeteries. For the first time, a couple of body dumps, so common 
in El Salvador, were discovered in Honduras. Public outcry over the 
killings was gaining strength and for the first time human rights 
groups cited Honduras for gross abuses. 

'This particular disposal method echos that employed by Argentina. Investiga- 
tors for the new civilian Argentine government have discovered that hundreds 
of Argentina's "disappeared" were stripped of identification and then thrown 
from military aircraft over the South Atlantic during the "dirty war." 



117 



"The so-called disappeared/' Alvarez sneered at the charges, "are 
probably subversives who are in Cuba and Nicaragua training to 
come back and subvert the Fatherland." 

The colonel had reason to be smug, for by then he had found a 
new ally in the United States. The Nicaraguan contras, now trained 
and reorganized by the Argentines, were seen by the Reagan Admin- 
istration as a potential pressure force in their campaign against the 
Sandinista government. One of the alleged initial contacts in what 
would become American inheritance of the Argentine operation was 
John Carbaugh, the roving aide to U.S. Senator Jesse Helms; Car- 
baugh had attended the 1980 CAL conference in Buenos Aires. 

An American diplomat in Honduras confirmed that Carbaugh 
"was in and out of here all the time from '80 to ; 82. 

"He also made a lot of trips to Buenos Aires in the same period. 
I heard he was tight with Alvarez and Major Bob [Roberto D'Au- 
buisson of El Salvador] and was backed by money from right-wing 
groups in the States." 3 

In late 1981, President Reagan signed a secret directive releasing 
$19.5 million in CIA funds to assist the contras. In November 1981, 
after a series of meetings between officials of the Central Intelligence 
Agency and the Argentine advisers in Honduras, the United States 
took over the funding of the guerrillas, now reconstituted as "free- 
dom fighters." 4 

From the beginning of U.S. involvement with the "secret war" in 
mid-1981 what was called a "tripartite" structure was put in place to 
run it. The United States supplied the money, Argentina supplied 
training and administrative skills (and initially a fig leaf to cover U.S. 
involvement), and Honduras supplied the territory from which oper- 
ations were mounted, according to U.S. intelligence sources and par- 
ticipants in the program. 

A joint staff to manage and coordinate this program was created. 
The Nicaraguan rebel forces were represented by Enrique Bermudez 
and Emilio Echaverry, former Nicaraguan National Guard officers. 
Two Argentine colonels, Osvaldo Ribeiro and Santiago Villegas (also 
identified as Jose Ollas), represented their country. Alvarez represented 
Honduras. And the CIA station chief and one of his assistants repre- 
sented the United States. 6 

In late 1981, the Honduran military rulers, bowing to pressure 
Initially brought to bear by the Carter Administration, held general 



ZZ8 



elections. A civilian country doctor, Roberto Suazo Cordova, was 
elected president and took office just as the CIA-Argentine-contra 
coalition was coming together. 

By that time, Honduras ; s own fledgling guerrilla movement, in- 
spired by the success in Nicaragua, had grown. Called the Lorenzo 
Zelaya National Front, or the Cinchoneros, the Honduran guerrillas 
carried out a wave of bombings, plane hijackings, and kidnappings 
that shook the complacency of newly democratic Honduras. To 
combat this threat, the new president turned to a comparatively low- 
level military officer who had demonstrated his abilities as head of 
FUSEP: Colonel Gustavo Alvarez Martinez. 

Suazo made Alvarez a general and elevated him to head of the 
armed forces— a violation of the norms of promotion and a move 
that won both men many enemies in the Honduran military. Later 
in 1982, Alvarez received yet another promotion, from chief to com- 
mander in chief of the armed forces, a title customarily held by the 
president. 

His authority now nearly absolute, Alvarez quickly moved against 
his enemies in the armed forces. Chief among them was Colonel 
Leonidas Torres Arias, the former military intelligence chief and Al- 
varez's successor at FUSEP; he was sent into diplomatic exile in Ar- 
gentina. Alvarez also moved to rid G-2 (military intelligence) and the 
secret police branch of FUSEP of Torres Arias's people. 

This purge was apparently motivated by two factors: Alvarez's 
fear of disloyal elements in an apparatus he desired to control abso- 
lutely, and his desire to eliminate what was believed to have become 
a corrupt network of officers involved in black-market arms and nar- 
cotics trafficking under the direction of Torres Arias. "Torres Arias 
was into everything," a Western diplomat in Honduras said. "He 
was into dope and shaking down the left who were running guns 
to the Sandinistas and Salvadoran rebels. He was very smart— the 
evil incarnate." 

But Alvarez had crossed a man who would fight back. During his 
brief tenure at FUSEP, Torres Arias had learned a lot about his arch- 
foe, in particular about the paramilitary squads Alvarez had nurtured 
to "fight communism." Soon the colonel surprised everyone by pub- 
licly breaking his silence and telling the world what he knew. In 
August 1982, Torres Arias surfaced in Mexico City, denouncing his 
former boss for organizing the Honduran death squads and for 



119 

launching his country on the path to war with Nicaragua. 

General Alvarez had and has under his direct command a Special 
Investigations personnel whose chief is Captain Alexander Hernan- 
dez, who, following orders from the general, has made disappear 
[names of prominent missing leftists] and many more people. . . . 

On the day he [Alvarez] became commander in chief of FUSEP, 
the era of the disappeared and clandestine cemeteries was initiated. 

In reaction to his disclosures, the Honduran attorney general de- 
clared Torres Arias "a traitor to the Fatherland." 6 

"He wasn't killed, because he sold himself to the press," "Ephron" 
said of Torres Arias. "He didn't speak out in Argentina, because he 
wouldn't have been safe; Alvarez has friends there. If he hadn't gone 
to Mexico, he'd have been a dead man." 

Torres Arias's revelations had little effect on Alvarez's career, for 
he was now enjoying the unwavering support of the Reagan Admin- 
istration as it expanded its covert assistance to the Argentine-led con- 
tras. At the end of 1982, the CIA reorganized the contra leadership, 
which until then had been dominated by former Somoza National 
Guard officers. The reshuffling brought in more mainstream Nicara- 
guan exiles, including many former Sandinista supporters. They in- 
cluded Adolfo Calero, who had been an active anti-Somocista and 
who had been jailed by the dictator for organizing business opposi- 
tion to his rule. The changes in the "new" Nicaraguan Democratic 
Force (FDN) were mostly cosmetic, however; the former Guard of- 
ficers were simply switched over to the military command. 

That Alvarez, the chief advocate of U.S. actions in Honduras, was 
also using the Argentines and the contras for his own ends was either 
unknown or ignored by the CIA. "These [Argentine] advisors re- 
main unidentified," Americas Watch, a human rights organization, 
reported in late 1982, "and both the Honduran and Argentine gov- 
ernments have denied their presence in Honduras. Several witnesses 
and human rights monitors point to evidence of their direct involve- 
ment in repressive actions. The participation of Argentine agents is 
not yet completely proven, but human rights observers cannot help 
noticing the striking similarities between the pattern now evolving 
In Honduras and the 15,000 to 20,000 disappearances conducted by 
the Argentine armed forces between 1976 and 1980. Those similar- 
ities include the use of heavily-armed plainclothesmen who do not 



Z30 



identify themselves, but clearly exercise official authority. They con- 
duct their operations in broad daylight, stay for long periods in resi- 
dences and places of work, stalk their targets in public, and yet are 
never stopped nor interfered with by regular police forces. Other 
similarities include the use of unmarked cars, and secret or clandestine 
detention centers." 7 What Americas Watch suspected in 1982 has 
since been confirmed by Honduran military officers, contra leaders, 
and the new democratic government in Argentina that took office 
in November 1983. It was only then that the Argentine advisers still 
operating in Central America were pulled out. 

Of even greater use to Alvarez than the Argentines themselves 
were those that the Argentines were training: the Nicaraguan con- 
tras. In late 1984, top Honduran military officers leaked information 
to Reuters correspondent Anne Marie O'Connor charging that some 
top contra officers had assisted Alvarez's death squads. 

According to O'Connor, the Honduran military attributed at least 
eighteen executions of Nicaraguan, Salvadoran, and Honduran citi- 
zens to the contras. The victims were suspected collaborators of the 
Salvadoran guerrillas who were believed to be transferring Sandinista- 
supplied arms through Honduras. One contra officer, the FDN's chief 
of counterintelligence, ex-National Guard Major Ricardo "El Chino" 
Lau, was believed to be the mastermind. 8 

"The contras killed people in farms on both sides of the border 
[Honduras-Nicaragua]," "Ephron" confirmed. "They got people who 
were helping in the transfer of weapons [from the Sandinistas to the 
Salvadoran guerrillas]." 

"Lobo," the student death squad operative, also discussed his ties 
to the contras, as did "Jorge," the secret policemen who arranged the 
"Lobo" interview. "Lobo" explained that, through his unit's infiltra- 
tion of leftist labor unions, student groups, and guerrilla cells, and 
the torture of their victims for information prior to their executions, 
they had obtained valuable intelligence information that was "ex- 
tremely useful" to the authorities. This information, which included 
maps of the location of several border "blind spots" where leftists 
smuggled arms from Nicaragua, was turned over to the Honduran 
authorities, who then passed it on to the contra commanders. This 
arrangement, "Lobo" said, resulted in several "important captures." 

If the American advisers now flooding Honduras disapproved of 
this sharing of counterterror operations, they never mentioned it pub- 



231 



licly. Rather, since General Alvarez was directing the campaign and 
Alvarez was their main ally, the United States had a vested interest 
in keeping such unpleasantries quiet. 

Alvarez used his support from the Reagan Administration as the 
ultimate bargaining chip. Together, they ran roughshod over the 
newly elected and fragile congress. When the Honduran foreign min- 
ister attempted to negotiate with Nicaragua, offering to stop aid to 
the contras in return for stopping the Sandinista »roop buildup on 
the border, the initiative was quashed by Alvarez and John Negro- 
ponte, the American ambassador. Although the Honduran constitu- 
tion requires congressional approval for the stationing of foreign 
troops on Honduran soil, Alvarez independently reached an agree- 
ment with the Reagan Administration for such a move in 1983. 

This was the first crack in the alliance between Honduras' military 
and civilian rulers. Alvarez proved stronger than the civilians: the 
congress authorized the plan June 21, a week after one hundred Green 
Berets arrived in the Puerta Castilla area to join twenty U.S. advisers 
already there to set up a training base. This month [August 1983] the 
United States begins up to five months of joint maneuvers with Hon- 
duras that will involve as many as five thousand American ground 
and air troops— another boost to the militarization of the country. 9 

If there were any doubts about the importance the American gov- 
ernment placed in its new ally, they weren't evident in its military 
assistance program to Honduras: it increased from $4 million in loans 
in 1980 to $77 million in grants in 1984. 

When Western diplomats in Tegucigalpa speak of the foreign in- 
fluences at work in Honduras, they mention Taiwan and the Uni- 
fication Church in the same breath. This is understandable, since the 
two run parallel programs in the country. 

Both curry favor with key figures in the Honduran armed forces, 
political parties, business community, and press. Both offer expense- 
paid "orientation" trips to the Orient and conduct "consciousness- 
raising" seminars on the evils of communism versus the benefits of 
capitalism. And for both, as for the Argentines and the CIA, their 
chief Honduran benefactor was General Alvarez. 

Former Colonel Bo Hi Pak, the Reverend Moon's chief lieutenant 
and president of the Church's CAUSA arm, showed an interest in 



Z3Z 



Honduras shortly after Alvarez became chief of staff. Setting up an 
office in Tegucigalpa, Pak gave numerous seminars in the country, 
urging the populace to arm themselves theologically against com- 
munism; he vowed to use his clout to defend Honduras from the 
international liberal media. 

The former KCIA official was also present on January 14 ; 1983 ; 
at the official birth of the Association of Progress for Honduras 
(APROH); the group brought together the most right-wing and eco- 
nomically powerful Honduran leaders. Almost immediately, APROH 
was charged by human rights groups with being a suspected funding 
source for paramilitary squads, along lines similar to the arrangement 
in EI Salvador and Guatemala, where the large landowners and coffee 
barons fund the security force death squads. This charge was lent 
credence by the fact that APROH ; s president was General Alvarez. 

Pak ; s presence at APROH ; s official birth was more than a mere 
gesture of moral support, since the new organization was widely 
perceived to be a political springboard for Alvarez. In the tradition 
of the Unification Church, that meant money; at the ceremony, Pak 
handed Alvarez a check for fifty thousand dollars. 

Pak ; s zeal raised concern in Honduras. In a pastoral letter, the 
Episcopal Conference denounced CAUSA ; s interference in Honduran 
domestic affairs and warned of the "serious dangers to the psycho- 
logical, religious, and civic integrity of anyone who yields to its [Uni- 
fication Church] influence." Under pressure, Alvarez returned Pak ; s 
check. 

What Bo Hi Pak saw in APROH was the possibility of establish- 
ing a tight relationship, lubricated by money, with the man who 
appeared to be the future. With Alvarez as president of Honduras, 
CAUSA ; s influence there would have known no bounds. 

But Pak backed the wrong man. In November 1984, APROH was 
abolished by the Honduran government after several of its prominent 
members, together with military cohorts of Alvarez, were implicated 
by the FBI in a drug-financed coup/assassination plot against Presi- 
dent Suazo Cordova. 

Despite the APROH "scandal," Pak continued his activities in 
Honduras, traveling across the country to speak to business leaders, 
student groups, and labor unions, preaching "anti-communism 
through democratization." Selected individuals from the press, poli- 
tical, academic, and business communities were given expense-paid 



Z33 



trips to the United States and Asia. In 1983 ; CAUSA sponsored a 
series of four-day seminars in Honduras on the evils of communism. 
Among the speakers were Lynn Bouchey of the Council for Inter- 
American Security and Jay Parker, chairman of the Lincoln Institute 
(and member of the board of directors of the U.S. chapter of the 
World Anti-Communist League). 

Moises Jesus de Ulloa Duarte, a conservative Honduran radio com- 
mentator as well as the former head of his nation's chapter of the 
World Anti-Communist League, traveled to Korea on the invitation 
of the Unification Church. "I went because I supported their anti- 
communist beliefs. But/' he added enigmatically, "I don't like the 
way they raise their money." 10 

CAUSA also turned its attention to the Nicaraguan exiles. In a 
Tegucigalpa safehouse in 1983, contra leader Fernando "El Negro" 
Chamorro told one of the authors that CAUSA had first approached 
him the year before, offering to help "unite the contra factions." 

Chamorro said he went as far as to take them up on a free trip to 
the United States; there he met with some Unification Church offi- 
cials in San Francisco and attended Moonie-arranged meetings with 
the heads of other Nicaraguan exile groups. "The trip was the extent 
of my relationship with them, but other help was offered. At the 
time, I had reasons to consider the offer, but I couldn't tell whether 
there might be strings attached. I don't want them to give us money 
and then to turn this around into a Moonie thing." 

Other contras have accepted CAUSA's offers of help, notably 
Steadman Fagoth, the former leader of the Misura guerrilla force of 
Miskito Indians and Atlantic Coast black Creoles. Fagoth's top aides 
admitted to receiving material and financial aid from CAUSA, espe- 
cially since the cutoff of CIA aid in May 1984. In the autumn of 
1984, when Misura's political officers were scrambling for money to 
pay the telephone and rent bills for their Tegucigalpa safehouse, 
CAUSA helped them out with nearly eleven thousand dollars in 
cash. Several tons of food, medicine, and clothing, paid for by 
CAUSA, have also been sent to Misura's base camps in the desolate, 
swampy Honduran Mosquitia region bordering Nicaragua. One of 
the authors, who spent several weeks with Misura guerrillas in June 
and July 1984, noticed Misura fighters wearing red T-shirts embla- 
zoned with the CAUSA logo. 



234 



In August 1984, CAUSA hosted a number of seminars in and 
around Washington, D.C. Nicaragua was a prominent theme at the 
conferences, and what emerged was the American-Nicaraguan As- 
sociation (ANA). The association's aim was to conduct a state-by- 
state publicity campaign in the United States to raise funds for the 
contras. 

CAUSA moved quickly. In an interview in his Costa Rican home 
in December 1984, Alfonso Robelo, a prominent Nicaraguan exiled 
politician and former Sandinista who now helps lead the contras, 
told one of the authors that the ANA would be helping him set up 
speaking engagements in the United States as part of an upcoming 
fund-raising sweep. 

There are also signs that Church members are doing more than 
just funding the anti-Sandinista forces. In February 1985, guerrillas 
in the FDN base camp of Nicarao spoke fondly of an American 
CARP (Moonie student movement) member actually fighting inside 
Nicaragua with their comrades; he had adopted the nom dt guerre of 
Rata Asesina (Killer Rat). In Tegucigalpa, Frank Arana, the FDN's 
spokesman, admitted the presence of "Killer Rat" but denied his 
active participation in the fighting. 

The Unification Church's myriad activities in Honduras, many 
directed through its CAUSA arm, is a cause of growing consternation 
in Honduras. "We're afraid the entrance of CAUSA could create a 
repressive extreme right that doesn't exist in Honduras now," a cleric 
told reporter Lucy Komisar in 1983. "When terrorism began in 1980, 
many businessmen wanted to create an organization of the extreme 
right like the Guatemalan White Hand. Others who opposed it pre- 
vailed. We are afraid that under the pretext of anti-communism they 
may start such an organization." 11 

Taiwan's courtly ambassador to Honduras, Peng Yu, explained 
the importance of the links between Latin America and his country, 
constantly referring to Taiwan's loss of United Nations recognition 
and the severing of ties by the United States in favor of mainland 
China. Of the two dozen nations that still recognize Taiwan, over 
half are in Latin America. Honduras is one of them. "We are just 
trying," Peng Yu said, "to reciprocate the support they have given 
us. We've really been able to do very little in return." 

The ambassador is unduly modest. Taiwan exerts its influence in 



235 

Honduras both through economic aid missions that advise farmers 
on better agricultural practices and through their international poli- 
tical warfare campaign. As are others in the region, a number of 
Hondurans from a variety of key fields are invited to attend the two- 
month political warfare course taught at the Political Warfare Cadres 
Academy in Peitou. "These are like seminars/' the ambassador said. 
"These seminars teach the experiences we have gone through with 
communist subversion. We teach the Mainland's [People's Republic 
of China] tactics. We want people here to know what communist 
subversion is like, so they know how to deal with their own prob- 
lem. 

"We only give technical assistance. We don't need to give weap- 
ons. Your government [the United States] can do that much better 
than us." 12 

One of the best-known recipients of Taiwanese largesse in Hon- 
duras is Amilcar Santamaria, the international press spokesman for 
the presidency. 13 Santamaria is a chubby, fair-skinned man with a 
weakness for green polyesters. He attended CAL conferences before 
that League affiliate was disbanded in 1984 and is a political warfare 
graduate; he attended the Peitou academy in the spring of 1984. Like 
all the graduates, he lauds the training but is circumspect about the 
specifics of what he was taught. "One thing I think we could im- 
plant in Honduras which the time in Taiwan taught me," Santa- 
maria told one of the authors in October 1984, "is a deliberate 
increase in the press of the publication of progovernment articles." 

Santamaria said he was planning to retire from the government 
and return to his job as editor of La Prcnsa, a conservative Honduran 
newspaper, in order to further this goal. Although he still retains his 
government information officer post, anonymous articles extolling 
Taiwan and deriding mainland China's current experiment with cap- 
italism now regularly appear in local papers. 

A frequent speaker in Honduras and elsewhere in Central Amer- 
ica, Santamaria's message is always the same: the common threat 
faced by the "front-line" states and the need for them to work to- 
gether to defeat communism. "Taiwan's experience as a front-line 
state with Communist China is invaluable to us," he said. "We have 
a good relationship, for historical and ideological reasons. One of the 
reasons why Honduras has always recognized Taiwan is because it 
has always been anti-communist and so are we." 



lib 



Santamaria carefully echoed Ambassador Peng Yu ; s sidestepping 
of the issue of Taiwanese military advisers in Honduras. "The 
Chinese [Taiwanese] Embassy has always been very respectful in 
this area. It hasn't tried to give recipes to the problems we have. It 
has always said that it is willing to help if it's asked." 

Apparently, it has been asked at various times. "Ephron," the 
Honduran counterintelligence agent, said that in the late 1970s a 
Chinese military officer was attached to the Honduran armed forces 
chief of staff, teaching "psychological warfare techniques." Some of 
this training, he claimed, was employed in the interrogation and 
handling of "subversives" in the Alvarez anti-guerrilla program. In 
addition, a Miskito Indian who was press-ganged into uniform by 
the contras in the winter of 1985 swore to investigators that three 
Chinese advisers oversaw the training center where he was sent. A 
State Department official in Washington also confirmed that Tai- 
wanese advisers were teaching courses in Honduras. "Not in-field, 
[not] in the combat zone, that we know of, but certainly in-country." 

While he refrained from confirming this information, Santamaria 
hinted that there were things the Taiwanese taught that were better 
left unrevealed. "You see, we Hondurans are a much freer people by 
nature. Countries like Taiwan have always been very authoritarian. 
For this reason, only some of the programs taught in Taiwan could 
be instituted here." 

If American support helped elevate Alvarez, it also led to his 
downfall. In March 1984, junior officers, with pistols drawn, stormed 
into the chief of staff's office and announced that his reign was at an 
end. The "new Somoza" was unceremoniously bundled aboard a 
plane to Costa Rica. 

The military "coup" was a major policy defeat for the Reagan 
Administration. Not only had Alvarez's total acquiescence to Ameri- 
can wishes hurt national pride, but the Honduran military had be- 
come apprehensive about what they saw as the American policy to 
maneuver them into a war footing with Nicaragua, with little in 
return. The Washington Post reported: 

After Alvarez was removed, the new commanding officers "wouldn't 
talk to anybody" at the CIA station in the Honduran capital, one 
diplomat familiar with the case said. "They were coldly detached. 



137 



They saw that [the CIA station chief] and the gang were protectors, 
creators and personal friends of Alvarez and they didn't want to talk 
to them." 

Vital training and logistical facilities for the anti-Sandinista rebels 
were shut down or moved to more remote locations within weeks. 
Before Alvarez was thrown out, the United States had saved money 
and circumvented limits on the numbers of U.S. advisers in El Salva- 
dor by training Salvadoran units in Honduras. Alvarez's successors 
put an end to that. 14 

More bad news followed quickly thereafter. In May 1984 ; despite 
fierce lobbying efforts by the Administration, Congress cut off CIA 
funding for the contras.* (This void would be filled through the 
offices of ; among others, the World Anti-Communist League.) 

But even before American aid to the contras was cut off in 1984, 
many New Right lobbying groups and foundations had embarked 
on a campaign to publicize the "freedom fighters' " cause, hosting 
speaking tours and seminars where contra leaders and exiled Nicara- 
guan labor leaders, journalists, and politicians conveyed their experi- 
ence to American listeners. "We ask only for enough help so that 
we can have a reasonably even chance in our fight for freedom," 
they heard Adolfo Calero say. "We are the ones who are suffering, 
and it is our country that must make the sacrifices. We do not ask 
others to share these horrors. We ask only for enough resources from 
outside to give us a chance to fight against the weapons the Sandi- 
nistas have received from the communists." 15 

In the absence of CIA funds, these American conservative organi- 
zations became the nucleus of private efforts to keep the Nicaraguan 
civil war going. The most important figure in this informal alliance 
was retired Major General John K. Singlaub, the chairman of the 
World Anti-Communist League. 

A month before the cutoff, Singlaub had been at the Pentagon to 
head a panel of retired high-ranking military officers whose purpose 
was to study the strife in Central America and make recommenda- 
tions for the Reagan Administration. 

The eight-member panel issued an eight-page classified report urging 
the United States to move away from conventional warfare tactics in 

'In 1985, Congress restored partial funding for the contras, appropriating S27 
million in humanitarian aid. 



238 



EI Salvador and apply the lessons of counterinsurgency warfare learned 
in Asia, including increased emphasis on psychological warfare, civic 
action and small-unit operations. 16 

While some of the panel's recommendations (one of which was 
to send experts in psychological warfare to El Salvador) couldn ; t be 
officially implemented after the May cutoff, Singlaub and other panel 
members were in a position to see that they were pursued on an 
unofficial "free enterprise" basis. From statements made by those 
involved, it seems a deal was struck, that New Right private groups 
would conduct those operations that the Administration was now 
barred from continuing. 

As chairman of the World Anti-Communist League, Singlaub 
made the revitalized international brotherhood the spearhead of these 
private groups anxious to actively combat communism everywhere; 
a principal target was Nicaragua. 17 * 

Since then, Singlaub claims to have raised millions of dollars in aid 
for the contras and has made frequent trips to the FDN base camps on 
the Honduran border. He has also formed a private training academy 
for Salvadoran police forces and Nicaraguan contras, since the U.S. 
government will not. The director of this Institute for Regional and 
International Studies, Alexander McColl, is the military affairs editor 
of Soldier of Fortune magazine. He is also on the advisory board of Ref- 
ugee Relief International, the organization that is operated jointly by 
Soldier of Fortune and Singlaub's United States Council for World Free- 
dom. 

"What we are doing here," McColl told one of the authors, "has 
been briefed to senior policy officials in Washington. They are aware 
of what we are doing and they approve. They have not told us to 
stop. In fact, they seem grateful for the private initiatives." 18 

"Singlaub/' The Washington Post reported in December 1984, "said 
he and others have sent millions of dollars in uniforms, food, medi- 
cine and other aid to contras or their families and to refugees in 
Honduras, EI Salvador and Guatemala. He said the Defense Depart- 
ment has helped coordinate the private aid." 19 

Another aid organizer, Louis ("Woody") Jenkins, a conservative 

"After CAL was disbanded and replaced by FEDAL in the World Anti-Commu- 
nist League in 1984, three national chapters— El Salvador, Cuatemala, and Hon- 
duras—refused to join the new organization, according to Singlaub. 



119 



Louisiana Democratic state representative, told one of the authors, 
"[These] voluntary efforts have enabled the CIA to concentrate its 
depleted funds for the contras on arms and ammunition rather than 
on food and clothing." 20 

But Singlaub hasn't been content to leave the military funding to 
the CIA; in an interview with The Washington Post in May 1985, he 
said he had raised almost two million dollars outside the United 
States for arms for the rebels. "He and [Adolfo] Calero said they 
were seeking military and financial help from WACL chapters in 
South America, noting that the chapters in Brazil and Argentina are 
large and active." 

Bert Hurlbut, a wealthy Texas oilman who is on the advisory 
board of the United States Council for World Freedom, elaborated 
on the source of money, claiming that both Taiwan and South 
Korea were sending fifty thousand dollars a month to fund the 
contras. "None of the funds from this country [U.S.] go for hard- 
ware," Hurlbut told The Washington Post. "We've solicited funds 
elsewhere for that. The entire WACL board is trying to help out 
with arms." 21 

Other New Right groups have joined the crusade. In March 1985, 
the College Republicans, an adjunct of the Republican National 
Committee, distributed a poster, "Save the Contras," featuring an 
armed contra and the reminder that "only 53 cents a day will support 
a Nicaraguan freedom fighter." CAUSA USA has sent an estimated 
one million dollars in supplies to refugees in Honduras since mid- 
1984. In May 1985, the Moon-owned Washington Times announced 
that Bo Hi Pak was contributing $100,000 toward a private fund 
that the Times was establishing to raise fourteen million dollars for 
the contras. 22 

Another man behind the aid influx is Andy Messing, executive 
director of the National Defense Council and a member of the board 
of the American chapter of the World Anti-Communist League. 
"Messing, who describes himself as an 'irregular-warfare expert' ad- 
mitted in an interview that going to war is his favorite pastime. . . . 
He emphasized that his efforts had been to get nonmilitary supplies, 
not guns and bullets to Central America. 'One pill is worth a thou- 
sand bullets/ Messing said. 'Weapons shipments are not positive, 
not Judeo-Christian.' " 33 

» * * 



240 



Today the internal situation in Honduras is more placid than it 
was in Alvarez's day. The death squads, so prevalent then, are less 
active. "Ephron" is in "retirement/ 7 and "Lobo's" ELA, though still 
armed, is virtually dormant. The squad's primary goal, eliminating 
"Marxist domination" of the university, has been accomplished; the 
right now controls campus politics. 

The Honduran armed forces command claims to have dismantled 
the COE network since Alvarez was ousted in March 1984. Alex- 
ander Hernandez was transferred abroad as a member of the military 
attache corps, but he was rejected by two South American govern- 
ments to which he was assigned. He was last reported back in Hon- 
duras as the deputy head of FUSEP's training academy. 

While American diplomats in Tegucigalpa now admit to having 
"recently heard" that the COE was responsible for a number of 
politically motivated killings and disappearances ; they continue to 
defend COE ; s instrumental role as a "legitimate SWAT-type coun- 
terinsurgency force" that quelled an outbreak of leftist terrorism in 
Honduras. 

For the Reagan Administration, Honduras continues to be the hub 
of the campaign against the Sandinista government in Nicaragua. 
Joint military exercises with Honduras have grown in size and com- 
plexity. In April 1985 ; Operation Big Pine III, conducted just three 
miles from the Nicaraguan border, included more than 4,500 Ameri- 
can ground and air troops, as well as tanks for the first time. In the 
same month, Universal Trek ; 85, featuring a mock amphibious land- 
ing on the northern coast, involved 6,500 American troops. 

Efforts at moderation are still loudly denounced by the ultra-right, 
both in the rest of Central America and in the United States. When 
comparatively moderate Nicaraguan exiles were brought under the 
FDN banner by the State Department and the CIA in March 1985, 
Senator Jesse Helms angrily denounced the "blueprint for fuzzy- 
minded socialism" from the Senate floor. "The State Department 
clearly appears to have concocted a new plan amounting to a be- 
trayal of not only the freedom fighters but also the desire of President 
Reagan to see freedom established in Nicaragua." 24 

Without Alvarez, however, the United States is encountering new 
apprehension in Honduras. The more moderate military command 
is not as eager to get backed into a situation that might send their 
nation into war with Nicaragua; they wonder what would happen 



24 i 



if the Americans decided to walk away from such a situation. "We 
ask ourselves/' said a Honduran officer, "who will be the ones to 
deactivate, disarm and control these people [the contras] if there is 
no more U.S. government funding and they retreat entirely into 
Honduras. It's like having 12,000 PLO fighters in your country who 
want a separate state." 25 



SEVENTEEN 



For me, the withdrawal of foreign investment here is due to 
the presence of the Sandinistas in Nicaragua. As long as 
they remain in power, Costa Rica's economy will suffer. 

Oscar Saborio • 
Costa Rica, 198$ 

In costa rica, the peaceful and prosperous "Switzerland of Cen- 
tral America/' the only nation in the Western Hemisphere without a 
standing army, there are forces at work that would cause the nation to 
abandon its traditional neutrality and jump headlong into the region's 
bloody conflicts. The head of the Costa Rican chapter of the World 
Anti-Communist League is a prominent spokesman for these forces. 

Costa Rica's turn toward militancy is perhaps understandable, for 
its historically liberal political outlook and its reputation as a haven 
for political refugees of all types have brought problems. In a country 
where the Communist Party is tolerated and where both left- and 
right-wing exile groups from Guatemala, El Salvador, and Nicaragua 
have been allowed to maintain offices, Costa Rica is a natural breed- 
ing ground for intrigue and violence. 

Not all observers, however, see the nation's open-door policy as a 
purely humanitarian program. "Costa Rica," a former Salvadoran 
government official said, "has always played both sides. Wherever 
or with whomever there is money to be made, the Costa Ricans will 
be there. I've always thought that one day, they would get a little 
too greedy, and I think that day has come." 



243 



The current crisis began in the late 1970s. In giving the Sandinista 
rebels use of its territory Costa Rica was instrumental in bringing 
down the Somoza dictatorship in Nicaragua. "The Costa Ricans gave 
generous assistance to the Sandinistas during the last Nicaraguan war, 
allowing them to use the northern province of Guanacaste as a sanc- 
tuary from which to launch operations in the south of Nicaragua. 
Costa Rica was also where the Sandinistas took delivery of weapons 
shipped to them first from Venezuela and, later, from Cuba. 771 

The Costa Rican welcome mat for the Sandinistas has long since 
been pulled away; it is now the Sandinistas' enemies, the contras, 
who operate from Costa Rican sanctuary, with the fluctuating ap- 
proval of the nation's authorities. There are now approximately 
twenty thousand Nicaraguan refugees in Costa Rica, most of them 
Sandinista opponents; the number grows steadily. 

The change of heart came as the new Nicaraguan regime swung 
steadily to the left and was exacerbated by a wave of leftist violence 
that shook normally placid Costa Rica in 1981. Although many of 
the bombings, shootings, and kidnappings of 1981 and 1982 were 
attributed to a tiny Costa Rican communist group that was effec- 
tively crushed by the authorities, at least some of the violence was 
linked directly to the Nicaraguan Embassy in the capital, San Jose. 
One incident in particular the bombing of a Honduran airline office, 
led to the expulsion of three Sandinista diplomats in 1983 and to a 
precipitous increase in tension between Nicaragua and Costa Rica. 
Today the relationship is one of an endless volley of diplomatic 
protests, most concerning border violations arising from the free -fire 
zone created by the contras along the frontier. 

Despite the conflicts, President Luis Alberto Monge has for the 
most part spurned repeated U.S. proposals for an improved Costa 
Rican armed capability and for the establishment of an American- 
manned military training program. 

The American pressure finally paid off, however; the Nicaraguan 
contras now operate border bases inside Costa Rica, and the nation's 
seven thousand Rural and Civil Guards have received modernized 
training, equipment and weaponry from the United States. In 1984, 
for the first time in decades, Costa Rica accepted a delivery of "lethal 
aid/ ; mostly light weaponry and field artillery, from the United States 
as part of Its assistance program. In May 1985, American Special 



Z44 

Forces advisers arrived to train two Civil Guard battalions in coun- 
terinsurgency. 

This escalation of military preparedness in Costa Rica has been 
evident since 1982, when, just prior to President Reagan's visit to 
San Jose, the minister of public security announced the creation of a 
reservist paramilitary force, the Organization for the National Emer- 
gency (OPEN). 

Officially dissolved in early 1985 due to "lack of activity/' in the 
nearly three years of its existence OPEN trained thousands of peas- 
ants in the rudimentary arts of counterinsurgency. Even with OPEN 
disbanded, these rural reservists continue to provide a pool of poten- 
tial forces that could be incorporated into a paramilitary force should 
Costa Rica ever succumb to the pressure of its militarists. Just as were 
the jefes politicos in Guatemala and the ORDEN operatives in El Salva- 
dor, the Costa Rican OPEN agents were dominated by a political 
party. 

"It was really murky," Deri Dyer, editor of the English-language 
Tico Times, told one of the authors in April 1985. "OPEN was sup- 
posed to be an anti-terrorist force, dependent on the Ministry of 
Public Security. Then we discovered that the ministry was checking 
prospective members' credentials to make sure no one with leftist 
tendencies got in. It turned out to be an anti-Communist paramilitary 
squad, and at least some of its estimated ten thousand members are 
reportedly Costa Rica Libre [Free Costa Rica Movement] people." 

Since it is in keeping with the pattern elsewhere, it should come 
as no shock that the head of the Free Costa Rica Movement, Bernal 
Urbina Pinto, is also the head of his nation's chapter of the World 
Anti-Communist League. 

Although Urbina Pinto has managed to keep the militant activities 
of the Free Costa Rica Movement to a discreet level, it is common 
knowledge in Costa Rica that the movement's youth arm conducts 
paramilitary training, euphemistically called "rescue training." The 
graduates of these courses are called the Boinas Azuks (Blue Berets). 

As vice-president of the Federation of Latin American Democratic 
Entities (FEDAL), which replaced CAL as the Latin American branch 
of the World Anti-Communist League after CAL was dissolved in 
1984, Urbina Pinto's is an important voice in the League. He also 
has a long history of participation in his region's anti-communist 
struggle. 



245 



Of particular concern to Urbina Pinto has been the leftist govern- 
ment in neighboring Nicaragua. In 1981, he met with Argentine 
military agents and exiled Nicaraguan National Guardsmen to plot 
the overthrow of the Sandinista regime. 

Hector Frances was one of the advisers the Argentine military 
junta sent to Central America in 1980 to aid the anti-communist 
efforts there. After he was apparently abducted on the streets of San 
Jose in 1982, Frances described the Argentine covert operation. His 
breaking of the traditional code of silence shed light on the Central 
American operations as well as on the involvement of several prom- 
inent League members in them. 2 

After undergoing specialized military intelligence training in Bue- 
nos Aires ; Frances said ; he was dispatched to Costa Rica. "I was to 
evaluate and create political and military conditions for the counter- 
revolutionary forces from that area." Frances named Urbina Pinto as 
one of the people he had met with in Costa Rica while helping to 
organize the anti-Sandinista contra forces. 

By early 1982, the various Nicaraguan exile factions in Miami ; 
Costa Rica, and Honduras had begun working together under the 
direction of the Argentines. They had also just received the first ship- 
ment of weapons, cash, and supplies from the CIA after President 
Reagan had signed a directive authorizing $19.5 million in covert 
funds to help get the contras started. CIA advisers began showing 
up in Central America, and soon the Argentines were getting their 
paychecks not from Buenos Aires but from Langley. 3 

Frances's task was to organize the contras in Costa Rica for the 
fledgling Nicaraguan Democratic Force (FDN), which was headquar- 
tered in Miami and Honduras; the name was formally adopted in 
December 1982 after a CIA-sponsored shakeup in the command 
structure of the fractious coalition. 

Frances set up a local FDN committee in Costa Rica with former 
National Guardsmen from Nicaragua and exiled Somoza-era poli- 
ticians. In preparation for creating an armed anti-Sandinista rebel 
force, he established a network of operatives to collect intelligence in 
both Costa Rica and Nicaragua. "These contacts allowed me to carry 
out several meetings to set up information networks and to create 
conditions for military operations." 

Frances's unit had a working relationship with members of Costa 



146 



Rican security forces, who turned a blind eye to the armed camps 
being set up on Costa Rica's northern border with Nicaragua. 

There were also contacts with ultra-rightist groups like Urbina 
Pinto's Free Costa Rica Movement. Arms and explosives were re- 
ceived from them for such actions as directing machine-gun fire at 
the Nicaraguan Embassy or blowing up Nicaraguan diplomatic ve- 
hicles in San Jose. "The Movimiento Costa Rica Libre, through its 
director, Bemal Urbina Pinto, closely allied to the CIA and similar 
movements in Salvador, Guatemala, and Spain, offered a copy of the 
keys of the Nicaraguan Embassy in San Jose for an operation against 
it/ 7 Frances said. 

At about the same time, the American New Right was getting in 
on the act. Frances spoke of a meeting with Nat Hamrick, a roving 
aide to Senator Jesse Helms. In late 1981 and early 1982, Frances 
said, Hamrick met frequently with Urbina Pinto and other Costa 
Rican rightists on behalf of Helms during visits to San Jose. Of his 
own meeting with Hamrick, Frances said; "We agreed that, to bring 
about operational conditions for the [Nicaraguan] counterrevolution 
in Costa Rica, it was necessary to pressure President Monge with 
economic pressures to guarantee that he would ensure that Costa 
Rica would provide us with the right conditions for the operations I 
have cited. . . . Pressures are being made, and are reflected in the 
continued presence of Eden Pastora [an anti-Sandinista leader] in 
Costa Rica and of many other counterrevolutionary groups." 

Frances left Costa Rica in 1982, but the results of his work re- 
mained behind. Today his "information networks" function on a 
surreptitious level at the service of Costa Rica's internal security 
forces, the various contra armies, and some conservative private -sec- 
tor interest groups, all of which work in tandem against "the com- 
mon threat," Nicaragua's Sandinista regime. 

One of Urbina Pinto's ideological soulmates and closest friends is 
Oscar Sabon'o, a prominent San Jose businessman who owns one of 
the country's largest supermarket chains. A former congressman and 
mayor of San Jose, Sabon'o met with one of the authors in the quiet 
gloom of a hotel restaurant in San Jose in December 1984. 

In his fifties, Sabon'o describes himself as "one of the first Costa 
Rican businessmen to recognize the threat" posed by the Sandinista 
regime, and one of the first "to take action." 



U7 



One of his first actions was to form the Costa Rican Foundation 
for the Preservation of Liberty ; which conducted a publicity and fund- 
raising campaign in the United States for the contras. 

Later Saborio began working with Eden Pastora ; the one-time 
"Commander Zero." Pastora ; once one of the Sandinistas 7 heroes ; 
had broken with his comrades in 1981 and taken up arms against 
them from Costa Rican exile ; independently of the FDN ; s efforts. "I 
helped him with food and such things," Saborio said. 

The businessman also made trips to Washington, where he tried 
to pressure the State Department and the CIA to give more support 
to Pastora ; s rebel effort. "I have always thought that the solution in 
Nicaragua is military/ 7 Saborio offered in explanation for his pro- 
contra activities. 

He also worked hard to influence the divisive contra community, 
which was scattered in Costa Rica, Honduras, and Miami, stressing 
that a military solution could only come about through greater uni- 
fication. 

Upon being approached for help by former contra chief Jose Fran- 
cisco "Chicano" Cardenal (who lost his role in the 1982 CIA shakeup 
of the FDN), Saborio went to work in earnest. Besides using his 
economic and political clout, he revitalized a rural informants 7 net- 
work that he had nurtured for decades, ever since his participation 
in the 1948 anti-communist revolution that had set Costa Rica on 
the pro-Western, free enterprise path it follows today. 

He also founded the Patriotic Union, which pressured the govern- 
ment. "It was a very anti-communist group. I was very active and 
was the coordinator between them and the minister of public secu- 
rity. 77 

At the time, the minister of public security was Edmundo Solano, 
a controversial liberal. In the interview, Saborio claimed he discov- 
ered that "Solano had taken up with the Sandinistas, 77 and that he 
and Urbina Pinto 7 s group helped in the officials downfall in 1984. 

Solano 7 s successor as minister of public security is Benjamin Piza 
Carranza. Interestingly, Piza is a founding member of Urbina Pinto 7 s 
Free Costa Rica Movement, the organization from which is drawn 
the Costa Rican chapter of the World Anti-Communist League. Pos- 
sibly because the movement is seen as a right-wing reactionary group 
by mainstream Costa Rican conservatives, Piza has felt it necessary 
to disavow any continuing links with it; nevertheless, political ob- 



Z48 



servers note that the rightist influence in the governments policies 
has grown recently. 

As a result, Urbina Pinto's World Anti-Communist League chapter 
has lost much of its former pariah status; its involvement in current 
events is most visible in the frequent full-page newspaper advertise- 
ments denouncing the Sandinistas. In December 1985, participants 
in a Central American Peace March were stoned by over a hundred 
Costa Rica Libre members in San Jose. 

Drawn by the green light given by the Reagan Administration 
to anti-Sandinista activities, others have joined Costa Rica's pub- 
lic-private cooperative venture against communism, including the 
Taiwanese, who are reportedly training the security forces in 
counterinsurgency. Also participating have been a number of anti- 
Castro Cubans from Miami, including some former terrorists. 

The Cubans in Costa Rica are but the latest activists from an exile 
community that has been a traditional sponsor of paramilitary train- 
ing for Central American anti-communist groups. This community 
is also represented in the World Anti-Communist League. Andres 
Nazario Sargen, the president of Alpha 66, a Cuban emigre group 
accused of bombings and assassinations throughout the United States, 
is a long-standing member of the League. 

Thirty-three-year-old Felipe Vidal is a slim, mustachioed Cuban, 
the bodyguard of an American expatriate landowner, John Hull, who 
lives in northern Costa Rica. At home, he is given to wearing his 
.45 automatic in a shoulder holster outside his shirt. He coordinates 
the activities of the contras in his sector and works closely with an 
American who runs the local counterintelligence program. Two years 
ago, Vidal showed up with about fifteen other Cuban exiles to help 
Pastora's guerrillas fight the Sandinistas. Although the harsh life in 
the bush sent most of the exiles packing soon after they arrived, he 
and a committed hard-core group have remained. 

Vidal's motive for fighting the Sandinistas is hatred of commu- 
nism; his father was executed by a Fidel Castro firing squad in 1964. 
"We see Nicaragua as a strategic point from which to begin attacking 
Castro," Vidal told one of the authors in a contra safehouse in San 
Jose in January 1985. "We hope to eventually ignite the [counter] 
revolutionary forces inside Cuba. 

"Here is a world of opportunity that the United States doesn't 



U9 



offer. For example, in Miami, it took me three or four years to get 
my hands on a .57 millimeter recoilless [rifle]. Here I can get one 
tomorrow." 

Vidal said the Nicaraguan contra cause has been a beacon to Cu- 
ban "freedom fighters" after anti-Castro efforts lost CIA backing in 
the 1960s and were eventually abandoned as hopeless. "During the 
1970s, the form of [our] struggle was terrorism against Castro," Vidal 
elaborated, "in Mexico, France, Barbados and the United States. Pres- 
ident Carter created this wave of Cuban [emigre] terrorism because 
he began to negotiate with Castro. Once Reagan got into power, 
there was no need for these organizations because the governments 
policy coincided with the Cuban community's. In 1982, when 
Reagan came to Miami, he told us he was willing to support Cuban 
revolutionaries outside the U.S., just as long as nothing went on 
inside the U.S. So that's why we're here." 

Vidal's idea is to provide a permanent paramilitary infrastructure 
for an "international anti-communist brigade," beginning in Costa 
Rica. The work began back in 1981, he said, when he and others 
"trained hundreds in Miami for the Nicaraguan cause. 

"Now, what we're trying to do is to provide a way for Cuban 
exiles if they want to fight the communists. They can donate boots 
and food, but they can come and fight here, too." 

Vidal answers to a man named Bruce Jones. He is one of the 
Americans involved in running the intelligence network in northern 
Costa Rica, drawing on operatives from within the Rural Guards. 
This counterespionage program is apparently sanctioned by a con- 
sortium of interests, including the Costa Rican government, business 
interest groups like Saborio's and Urbina Pinto's, and the contras. 

Jones is responsible for a sparsely populated area where large land- 
owners are fearful of the spread of the Sandinista revolution. He 
described the unofficial armed group, formed by the ranching land- 
owners and himself, as "a kind of La Mano Blanca"; he personally 
collects handwritten intelligence reports several times a month from 
Rural Guardsmen stationed near the porous Nicaraguan border. In 
December 1984, he showed one of the authors his latest report, 
which he had just picked up from one of his operatives in a frontier 
town. 

The report, several handwritten pages long, amounted to a semi- 
literate account of the activities of about twenty persons suspected 



250 

of Sandinista ties or sympathies. "This man is a known communist 
and is believed to travel often to Nicaragua/' a typical entry in the 
report read. 

Jones 7 who was granted secret membership in the Costa Rican 
security forces for his efforts, explained that after he turns his lists 
over to his contacts in the government, the names go on file. Then ; 
he claimed, another copy of the names was handed to the American 
Embassy in San Jose. "Anyone whose name is still on the lists by 
the time it gets to the Embassy," he said, "is denied a visa to the 
U.S., if they ever apply." 

Jones was blunt about another reason for the operation. "We're 
compiling a list of all the communists in northern Costa Rica, in case 
we ever have to do an Operation Phoenix here." 4 

Jones, Vidal, Sabon'o, Urbina Pinto, and a handful of well-placed 
contacts in the Costa Rican and U.S. governments have collectively 
put together an impressive informant and counterintelligence net- 
work in Central America's one politically stable nation. Additionally, 
they have established an infrastructure for the contras who are op- 
erating in Costa Rican territory and have streamlined their logistical 
pipelines by forming groups that donate money and provide land 
and airstrips for cargo drops. They have done all this in the name of 
saving Costa Rica's "system of democracy." In the process, they 
have destabilized and increased the violence in the nation they vowed 
to protect. 

Once again, those who have perceived the present and future sta- 
bility of their nation as being threatened by communism have invited 
in foreign advisers and established countersubversion networks and 
paramilitary cells under the protection of a political party. Once again, 
that party is represented in the World Anti-Communist League. 

Costa Rica's League representative has certainly done his part to 
meet the League's call for a committed international anti-communist 
vanguard "to combat by any means necessary to eliminate the Marx- 
ist-Leninist threat." 

"I accept with pleasure," President Monge wrote, "the request to 
send a message to the 17th World Conference of the World Anti- 
Communist League, meeting in San Diego, California. It is a message 
of the government and of the people of Costa Rica. We are a small 
country, which within five years will complete a century of demo- 



Z51 

cratic processes. We are proud of our system of living in liberty. 
Despite our geographical location in a zone whipped by violence and 
war, this country maintains and will maintain its peace and its dem- 
ocratic institutions. 

"Ideologically and politically, we are not neutral. In the confron- 
tation between freedom and despotism, we are belligerents on the 
side of freedom. In the confrontation between the ideals of liberty 
and those elements which represent despotism, we cannot and we 
will not be neutral. We cannot and we will not be simple spectators. 
We claim an active role in the defense of the ideals of freedom." 5 

The Costa Rican president's message to the 1984 World Anti- 
Communist League conference was read by Bernal Urbina Pinto. 



EIGHTEEN 



The main objective of this conference is the mobilization of 
the Free World support for the active resistance movements 
inside the Communist Empire. . . . We have chosen this year 
to inform the participants of the present status in these areas 
and to develop a plan of action^ to assist these resistance 
movements. 

Walter Chopiwskyj 
San Diego, 1984 

The HOTEL sits on the edge of a marina ; five minutes from 
downtown San Diego. In the evening, the setting sun sparkles on 
the water, and the masts of thousands of sailboats in the manmade 
lagoon sway in a gentle surf. It was certainly a beautiful setting for 
the Seventeenth Annual World Anti-Communist League confer- 
ence. 

Under the leadership of retired Major General John Singlaub ; the 
1984 League conference was destined to be the most "successful" 
and important conference in its history. The meeting would serve as 
a renaissance of the League, which would emerge more powerful, 
more respected, and more dangerous than it was before. 

San Diego was clearly a better site selection in 1984 than Lux- 
embourg had been in 1983. That conference, the League's sixteenth, 
can only be described as a disaster. By 1983, the League already had 
a notorious reputation in Europe, and officials were reluctant to ex- 



253 



tend a welcome to a body that had historically included fascists, 
fugitive terrorists, and Nazi collaborators. 

The prime minister of Luxembourg had been asked to give the 
opening address; he had refused. The Luxembourg foreign and 
army ministers had been asked to speak; they had refused. The 
municipal government and the tourism office, representing a city 
actively trying to attract conferences and congresses, ignored it. 
The Gendarmerie refused to provide security. The Luxembourg 
Council of Resistance Fighters, a conservative, anti-communist 
body of veterans of guerrilla war against the Nazis, protested the 
conference to the government. Two scheduled American speakers, 
General Vernon Walters and Claire Boothe Luce, canceled. 

"It has become once again clear," retired Belgian General Robert 
Close warned at the opening ceremonies in San Diego, "that the 
warnings and the opinions expressed during the last World Anti- 
Communist League conference in Luxembourg were, at the same 
time, criticized as fascist. We must fight this kind of disinformation, 
subversion and infiltration of the mass media. We will unite against 
this kind of terrorism which is as dangerous as pure and simple 
terrorism." 

Close needn't have worried about "subversion" in San Diego. 
There was no repetition of the indignities suffered in Luxembourg. 
Under the leadership of General Singlaub's United States Council for 
World Freedom, the conference served to complete the redefining and 
repackaging of the League. No longer would it be open to attacks of 
being a haven for the proponents of the "Zionist-Communist con- 
spiracy" theory; now it would be seen as an organization dedicated 
to fighting for international freedom, "regardless of differences of 
race, sex, religion or national origin." 

Ivor Benson, the rabid South African racist and anti-Semite who 
had been a guest speaker at the North American Regional World 
Anti-Communist League conference in 1983, was not in attendance; 
his representation of Africa was supplanted by the presence of black 
leaders from nearly twenty African nations. The Tecos of Mexico, 
with whom the USCWF had been able to coexist until they were 
exposed by one of the authors earlier in 1984, were conspicuously 
absent. 

Instead, the United States Council for World Freedom had filled 
the League with mostly respectable conservative leaders from 



throughout the world. According to a League publication, Asian Out- 
look, one-third of the attendees were members of parliaments, con- 
gressmen, or senators from their respective countries. In the United 
States, dozens of notables from the New Right, including former 
Representatives John LeBoutillier of New York and Robert Dornan 
of California, attended as observers. 

Even better, in San Diego the League was able to receive the stamp 
of approval from various governments around the world. General 
Alfredo Stroessner, the dictator of Paraguay, sent a telegram thanking 
the League for "defending the world from the Marxist tyranny," 
then went on to boast breathlessly of his own contributions to the 
cause. 

I must say with pride that my Government, from the very beginning 
of its mandate, maintains a firm and unalterable anti-communist po- 
sition, that identifies itself with the democratic vocation of the Para- 
guayan people, and, in that sense, it has been possible to expel the 
subversive attempts of terrorist gangs supported by international conv 
munism by means of policies of social justice and the socio-economic 
transformations required by popular aspirations. 1 

The crowning endorsement, however, had to be that of President 
Reagan. 

It is an honor to send warm greetings to all those gathered for the 
17th. Annual Conference of the World Anti-Communist League in 
San Diego. 

The World Anti-Communist League has long played a leadership 
role in drawing attention to the gallant struggle now being waged by 
the true freedom fighters of our day. Nancy and I send our best wishes 
for every future success. 2 

Still, there were problems in selling this new and improved League, 
for not very much had changed. John Kosiak, the Byelorussian Nazi 
collaborator, remained chairman of his delegation. The Croatian Lib- 
eration Movement, the international Ustasha brotherhood that Ante 
Pavelic had established in Argentina in 1956, was still the official 
Croatian League chapter, as was the Bulgarian National Front, Inc., 
which had been formed in 1947 by the Bulgarian Legionnaires who 
had advocated the extermination of that nation's Jews. Mario San- 
doval Alarc6n, the "Godfather" of Central American death squads, 
was in attendance. And although Yaroslav Stetsko, the Ukrainian 



155 



premier who had officiated over the murder of approximately seven 
thousand residents of Lvov in one week in 1941, was too ill to come, 
his wife, Slava, was there to represent the Ukrainian Nazi collabora- 
tors. 

One of the most interesting aspects of the purification campaign 
at San Diego was the denigration of the former Mexican delegation. 
The purged Tecos were consistently attacked by League members 
for their anti-Semitism and fascist tendencies. One conference ob- 
server stated that the delegates rarely missed an opportunity to voice 
condemnation of their former comrades. "There was a very con- 
certed effort, in the seminars and in private conversations, to attack 
the Tecos, to stress that there was no place in WACL for people like 
that." 3 

Yet many of these diatribes came from Latin affiliates of the 
League, affiliates that the Tecos had formed in the 1970s, and were 
being voiced by the same people who had rallied to the Tecos ; side 
when they were attacked by the British Foreign Affairs Circle in 
1973 and 1974. Due to media pressure, the League had cut off one 
head of the Teco hydra; its other heads remained intact. "They say 
they got rid of the Tecos," the observer went on, "but they only got 
rid of the Mexican Tecos. All the South American Tecos, which still 
follow the Teco line, were still there." 

Another element objectionable to some mainstream conservatives, 
the Unification Church, had not been purged in San Diego. In fact, 
its presence had grown. Many of the American observers to the 
conference were involved with the Reverend Sun Myung Moon 
through any one of his myriad front groups. Among these were Ray 
Cline, director of the United States Global Strategy Council, and 
Roger Fontaine, a former National Security Council official and cur- 
rently a reporter for the Moon-owned Washington Times. The Rever- 
end Moon may have called the League a "fascist" organization in 
1975, but he still wanted to be part of it in 1984. 

Certainly General Singlaub had cleansed the World Anti-Commu- 
nist League of some of its "lightning rods," those overt extremists 
who did nothing but draw attention and criticism to the organiza- 
tion. This purge wasn't for purely esthetic or public relations reasons; 
the former major general had a bold new vision for the League, and 
the San Diego conference was going to be his showcase for it. He 
didn't want or need any adverse publicity to detract from it. 



Z56 

The goal of this conference is to formulate programs of action for 
each region of the world to follow in this organization's continuing 
effort to counter the worldwide campaign of subversion, disinforma- 
tion and news manipulation that fuels the communist drive toward 
world domination. 4 

No longer would the League be a place for delegations to lament 
the past. Instead, it was going to become an action-oriented federa- 
tion in the vanguard of the real struggle against communism. Speak- 
ers would no longer be angry old men lecturing on the evils of the 
"Chinese Communist clique" or the "imperialistic Russians"; there 
would now also be guerrilla fighters from Afghanistan, Mozam- 
bique, and Nicaragua, who were, with bullets and howitzers, ac- 
tively fighting the communists. Funds would no longer be spent on 
lavish banquets, glossy magazines, or commemorations of obscure 
fourteenth-century victories; money would now go toward establish- 
ing "speakers' bureaus" and toward buying helicopters, boots, and 
binoculars for the international anti-communist "liberation forces." 
In short, the League was to become an instrument for the interna- 
tional spread of "unconventional warfare." 

The former major general and specialist in unconventional warfare 
had been formulating this renovation for some time. "We must de- 
velop a Free World strategy which recognizes the whole spectrum 
of conflict from strategic nuclear to conventional to unconventional," 
Singlaub wrote in the June 15, 1984 USCWF newsletter. "This strat- 
egy must exploit to the maximum those many weaknesses within 
the Communist Empire with a view toward rolling back Communist 
tyranny and domination everywhere." 5 

Singlaub had not waited for the San Diego conference to put his 
plan into action. The previous year, he had joined forces with other 
retired military officers, including General Harry "Heine" Aderholt, 
former commander of Special Forces and Singlaub's deputy in Viet- 
nam, to form Refugee Relief International, an organization of former 
Special Forces soldiers, paratroopers, and pilots. 

"In relation to Refugee Relief International, which is an affiliate 
of the United States Council for World Freedom," USCWF Secretary 
General Walter Chopiwskyj proudly announced to the 1984 League 
conference, "and which is dedicated to the provision of medical, fi- 
nancial and other assistance directly to displaced persons and other 



257 



victims of communist terrorism, this year has moved and distributed 
six million dollars in medical supplies and equipment to the people 
of El Salvador. General Singlaub is a member of the Board of Direc- 
tors of Refugee Relief International and is currently engaged in rais- 
ing funds and collecting medical supplies and equipment and medical 
evacuation helicopters to send to EI Salvador to help the victims of 
the terrorist attacks in that country." 

As we have seen, it is more than "medical supplies and equip- 
ment" that is being ferried to Central America by Refugee Relief 
International; since its inception, it has been a source of supplies for 
the c!bntras fighting the Nicaraguan government. 

In retirement, Aderholt runs the Air Commandos Association and 
is the unconventional warfares editor for Soldier of Fortune magazine, 
the "Journal of Professional Adventurers." In articles recounting the 
"glories" of Rhodesia and Vietnam, Soldier of Fortune appeals to both 
active mercenaries and the armchair variety, and its classified ads 
function as a clearinghouse for international mercenaries. It does not ; 
in fact, make any secret that its "reporters" frequently carry arms 
while on assignment and engage in combat. "We don't hide the fact 
that we support one side and follow them into combat," a Soldier of 
Fortune employee told one of the authors in EI Salvador. "What we 
don't draw attention to is that we kill people." 

As upcoming chairman, Singlaub saw the chance to make the 
World Anti-Communist League operate along much the same lines 
as his and Aderholt's project; he made his plans for this new League 
clear in his opening address on September 4 in San Diego. 

When you have slowed or stopped the enemy's attack, it is the ap- 
propriate time to commit your reserves and launch a counterat- 
tack 

I am convinced that our struggle with Communism is not a spec- 
tator sport. As a result of that view, we have opted for the course of 
action which calls for the provision of support and assistance to those 
who are actively resisting the Soviet supported intrusion into Africa, 
Asia and North America. 

The geographic regions of WACL must not only provide support 
to the freedom fighters who are engaged in combat in their own 
region, but they must develop plans of action to support the resistance 
movements in other regions of the world. 8 

Singlaub hit a responsive chord among the delegates. When Slava 



Z58 



Stetsko ; the wife of Yaroslav ; was asked by a reporter what she 
wanted the U.S. government to do to aid the anti-communist strug- 
gle, she responded quickly; "To organize centers of psychological 
warfare, political warfare." 

"The time is now for action/ 7 Monaf Fakira of Mauritius charged. 
"Either directly or indirectly, the communists will take over the world 
and thus destroy our system of democratic government, our way of 
life, our choice of religion and culture, our freedom as a whole, and 
to [rule by] terrorism. I underline terrorism. To have terrorism in the 
world, to fight and win the undeclared World War III. 

"This can only be [prevented] if, side by side, the liberation forces, 
strategically or otherwise, receive assistance." 

"As the new Chairman of WACL," Singlaub told the League, 
"I assure you that I will work with great vigor to carry out these 
ideas. As a matter of fact, your effectiveness as a WACL Region, 
National Chapter, or organization will be measured in 1985 by 
how well you carry out the plans of action developed during the 
next few days." 

And the former major general wasn ; t kidding. Committees were 
established to determine the needs of anti-communist resistance 
movements in eight countries (Angola, Mozambique, Ethiopia, Laos, 
Cambodia, Vietnam, Nicaragua, and Afghanistan) and to formulate 
a policy for rendering assistance. Attending the League conference 
were representatives from five of the movements, including Adolfo 
Calero, a major leader of the contras fighting the Sandinista govern- 
ment. "Our situation," Calero informed the League, "is that we have 
the will to fight, if we had the weapons. These people [the contras] 
are trained; these people are willing to continue that struggle. We 
know for a fact that in Nicaragua we are fighting the battle for 
Central America. ..." 

We have kept the Sandinistas from participating more directly and 
physically in EI Salvador and I believe that every shot that we 
resistance fighters, freedom fighters, of Nicaragua fire in Nicaragua, 
is one less shot that will be fired in EI Salvador. We are the ones 
who are keeping the Sandinistas within [Nicaragua]. If we are left 
alone, if we are not given the proper support, we will continue our 
fight but it will have terrible consequences and we will be over- 
whelmed. 7 



159 



The resistance movements were neither shy nor modest about 
their needs. The Mozambique delegation, for instance, in addition to 
wanting funds to set up an information bureau, saw the need for 
five hundred surface-to-air missiles, AK.47 ammunition ("for up to 
30,000 people"); five hundred bazookas, one hundred Jeeps with gun 
mounts, five coastal cutters, and Special Forces equipment and in- 
structors ("enough for 30 teams") to carry out "special assignments." 
The Cambodians, battling the Vietnamese occupying their nation, 
needed funds for the purchase of "10,000 bags of rice per month to 
feed units in the field. Also needed are 15,000 assault rifles and am- 
munition, field radios, plasma, antibiotics, anti-tank weapons and 
plastique explosives to interdict bridges which Hanoi is too poor to 
repair." 8 

Probably the most ambiguous requests came from the Nicaraguan 
contras under the FDN banner. Seeking to "use U.S. Council for 
World Freedom as a clearing house and disseminator of current in- 
formation and current status and needs of/from FDN to all WACL 
chapters," the contras made no public mention of their needs for 
weapons or military supplies. This was undoubtedly a political con- 
sideration; in September 1984, opposition to the Reagan Administra- 
tion's covert aid to the contras had grown, and Congress had voted 
a complete cutoff of such aid in May. This caution in San Diego 
certainly didn't mean, however, that the contras didn't need such 
support, nor that the League would not supply it. 

The resistance movement seminars were certainly the most im- 
portant development in the genesis of the "new" League in San 
Diego. Operated by a handful of men, mostly retired American mili- 
tary or intelligence officers, the seminars marked the beginning of a 
new role for the League. This wasn't a bunch of aging Ukrainian 
fascists gathered around a table railing about the Soviet-designed fa- 
mine in their homeland in the 1920s; it was a gathering of uncon- 
ventional warfare experts meeting with guerrilla leaders actively 
engaged in just such warfare. 

The ubiquitous Ray Cline led the seminar on Nicaragua. Also 
officiating was Roger Fontaine, a colleague of Cline's at the George- 
town Center for Strategic and International Studies during the 1970s 
and, briefly, a senior staff member on the National Security Council 
at the White House, where, according to his resume, "he shared day- 



ZbO 



to-day responsibility for U.S. national security policy for Latin Amer- 
ica." 

Heading the Afghanistan seminar was Dr. Alex Alexiev, director 
of international security for the Rand Corporation. He was joined by 
Brigadier General Theodore C. Mataxis. During his long military 
career, Mataxis had also gathered uncoventional warfare credentials, 
attending the Chemical Warfare School in 1941 as well as the Stra- 
tegic Intelligence School in the late 1940s. 

Leading the seminar on Mozambique was William Mazzoco, a 
former U.S. Agency for International Development official who had 
directed the "security and surveillance" of aid programs to Vietnam 
from 1965 to 1971; he had been an instructor in counterinsurgency 
at the Foreign Service Institute in the early 1960s and had been a 
teacher for eight years at the U.S. Police Academy, the "school" that 
had trained the secret police of Uruguay, El Salvador, and Panama, 
among others. 

Jim Morris, a former Special Forces major in Vietnam and editor 
of the mercenary Eagle magazine, participated in the Indochina sem- 
inar. 

The seminars were a revolutionary break with League tradition 
but the members seemed pleased with the "new" League. "General 
Singlaub," Roman Zwarycz, a member of ABN, explained, "is con- 
cerned with furnishing real aid to these people that are out there 
fighting. They do need bullets. They do need medical supplies. They 
do need foodstuffs. They happen to be guerrillas. These things have 
to come from somewhere." 9 

The seminars were the catalysts of an even greater role for the 
World Anti-Communist League in Central America. Thanks to the 
consensus reached at San Diego, their private unconventional warfare 
would be better financed and expanded. 

The plane, a noisy and ramshackle old DC-3, came around in a 
long, slow arc over the jungles of Honduras. It dropped down below 
the treeline and bounced along the rutted airstrip macheted from the 
jungle floor. As the plane taxied to a stop, the guerrillas came out 
from among the trees, drove a half-dozen trucks up to the cargo bay, 
and waited for the doors to open. 

Crates of supplies were quickly unloaded into the trucks. As the 
DC-3 restarted its engines for takeoff, the guerrillas disappeared with 



Z61 



their new supplies into the treeline. The plane, which had carried a 
shipment of supplies donated by the World Anti-Communist League, 
lifted off for the return flight to Tegucigalpa. There would be other 
planes that month delivering supplies to the contras in their "cru- 
sade" against the Sandinista government of Nicaragua. 

It had been forty-four years since the Ukrainians had practiced 
unconventional warfare by massacring ethnic Russians and Jews for 
the Nazis in the name of "anti-Bolshevism." It had been twenty-six 
years since the Kuomintang in Taiwan had established the Political 
Warfare Cadres Academy, teaching rightists from around the world 
techniques of unconventional warfare to counter the threat of "in- 
ternational communism." It had been nineteen years since Mario 
Sandoval Alarcon had begun using the unconventional warfare of 
death squads to rid his nation of "subversives." It had been nine years 
since the Italian terrorists of Ordine Nuovo had employed a different 
kind of unconventional warfare to murder Magistrate Vittorio Oc- 
corsio as an "enemy of the people." 

On that day, as the DC-3 lumbered toward its rendevous in Hon- 
duras, there was nothing new about the World Anti-Communist 
League. Employing the skills it had learned in the Ukraine, Taiwan, 
Guatemala, and Italy, it was merely beginning a new phase in its 
old fight. 



NINETEEN 



It is quite easy to predict how the World Anti-Communist 
League will probably react when this book is published. There will 
be angry denunciations from League members, denials of Nazi in- 
volvement, and attacks on the authors and publisher, charging us 
with being communists or "fifth columnists." Indeed, this campaign 
has already begun. 

There will be a hastily assembled Executive Board meeting, and 
there will be a purge of some of the League elements we have ex- 
posed. The Romanian Iron Guard and the Croatian Ustashi most 
likely will be replaced by emigres whose backgrounds don ; t include 
their participation in wartime atrocities. The Stetsko entourage of 
Ukrainians will probably be taken over by younger exiles who didn't 
massacre Jews in 1941. The Japanese chapter will probably be re- 
placed by one composed of businessmen and conservative politicians 
untraceable to either the Unification Church or the Japanese under- 
world. Many other chapters, especially in Africa and Western Eu- 
rope, will quit as they learn for the first time some of the unsavory 
details about their League brethren. 

There may even be a name change. Just as the Latin American 
Anti-Communist Confederation became the Federation of Latin 
American Democratic Entities, at the next conference or Executive 
Board meeting the World Anti-Communist League may cease to ex- 
ist, to reappear as the International Freedom League or the World 
Federation for Democracy or some other grand title. 

The one prediction that can be made with absolute certainty is 
that the League will not die. 



Z6i 



The World Anti-Communist League is a chameleon, able to 
change its colors, even its politics, at will. 

When black Africans are not present, it talks about the democracy 
and bastion of freedom and prosperity of white-controlled South Af- 
rica; when black Africans are present, it talks about black Africa's 
struggle against Soviet-Cuban aggressors. 

When Arabs are not present, it rails against the communist en- 
croachment in the Middle East; when Arabs are present, it attacks 
Israel for its "Zionist imperialism." It can deftly sidestep its own 
contradictions in the name of the greater goal of anti-communism. 

And like a chameleon, the World Anti-Communist League can 
grow back a tail when it is cut off. 

When Roger Pearson was exposed as a neo-Nazi after three years 
in the League, the Taiwanese were suddenly horrified and asked him 
to leave. 

When the Tecos of Mexico were exposed as anti-Semites and 
fascists in 1984, they were purged, although the League had had 
intimate knowledge of the nature of their Mexican comrades for the 
previous ten years. 

When one of its "tails" is exposed and attacked, whether by the 
press, governments, or other League members, the World Anti-Com- 
munist League simply sheds it and grows another one. 

The League will survive for other reasons. 

It is is too important an instrument of foreign policy for South 
Korea and Taiwan to relinquish. It is too vital a link for Latin Ameri- 
can death squads to meet and share information to be severed. It is 
too convenient a conduit for the Unification Church to gain influence 
and funnel money to permit it to be stopped. It is too valuable a 
network for Nazi collaborators to maintain contact with each other 
to see it dismantled. It is too integral a part of the American New 
Right's program of subsidizing their "freedom fighters" in Central 
America to see it halted. 

It will also not die because its members have a compulsion to 
remain within it. 

Suzanne Labin, a French conservative scholar, was a League mem- 
ber before the Pearson interlude. She was reportedly enraged by the 
Influx of neo-Nazis and former SS officers in the 1970s and by 



164 



the League leaders' acquiescence to it. Yet she remains today head of 
the League chapter in France. 

In 1971, David Rowe quit the American Council for World Free- 
dom in disgust over what he saw as the Chinese chairman's mega- 
lomania and corrupt history. Yet Rowe is in the American League 
chapter today ; a League under the chairmanship of the same Chinese 
"megalomaniac" to whom he had such a violent reaction fourteen 
years earlier. 

In 1975, the Reverend Sun Myung Moon blasted the World Anti- 
Communist League as "fascist/' and yet today the Japanese chapter 
of the League is operated by Moon's Unification Church ; and many 
of the American League members work for Moon's organizations. 

In 197 '5 , Stefan Possony quit the League over the behavior and 
background of the Mexican Tecos. Yet he rejoined in the 1980s ; 
before the Tecos were finally ousted. 

As long as it serves such important purposes for so many noto- 
rious groups around the world ; and as long as there are men and 
women who will wail about the influx of "criminal elements" but 
turn around and quietly work with those elements, there will be a 
World Anti-Communist League. 

The League is not a "paper tiger." 

It is a well-funded ; six-continent federation of men and women 
who have given up on democracy ; or who never believed in it in 
the first place ; and who are now fighting their enemies on their own 
terms. 

It is a collection of practitioners and advocates of "unconventional 
warfare/' who emulate the policies of Chile's Pinochet and Taiwan's 
Kuomintang and who employ their tactics in Nicaragua ; Mo- 
zambique, and Angola. 

They are men who, when governments cut off aid, can send funds 
and supplies to "friendly" guerrillas in Africa, Asia, and Central 
America. 

It is a brotherhood that has its own source of income, its own 
foreign policy, its own army, even its own religion. 

Some might feel we have overstated the case. They would say 
the old Nazis live in quiet obscurity and aren't still exterminating 
Jews. The Unification Church has the right to proselytize in Latin 
America and the United States; besides, there are a lot of other rev- 



Z65 



erends who have become multimillionaires. The Tecos should have 
the right to criticize the Pope or priests they consider to be too liberal. 
The Latin American rightists should have the right to defend their 
traditions and plantations against what they consider to be Marxist 
elements. 

As far as they go ; there is some truth in all those statements; but 
they are gross oversimplifications of what the League stands for. 

The old Nazis do still call for the radical solution of the "Jewish 
problem" when they're in safe company. And they are still working 
toward that end; their progeny have murdered Jews in synagogues 
in Paris ; innocent passengers on civilian aircraft in Czechoslovakia 
and policemen in New York City. 

The Unification Church made an alliance with the Japanese un- 
derworld and used vast amounts of money, funds of unknown ori- 
gin, for influence-peddling in the United States and South America 
through a variety of front groups. 

The Tecos have taken control of at least one major university 
and fueled hostility toward Jews in Mexico, where synagogues are 
vandalized and Jewish graves are spray-painted with swastikas. 

Latin American rightists have shared dossiers on peasants, liberal 
clergy, and labor leaders; those targeted have been later found dead, 
tortured, and disfigured, in ditches and garbage dumps. 

Today, there is a new World Anti-Communist League. Under the 
leadership of retired Major General John Singlaub, it has become 
action-oriented, not interested in simply containing communism, but 
working for its "roll-back." 

The leaders of the World Anti-Communist League, including Sing- 
laub, say the United States cannot be nai ve about what is needed in 
this fight, and they are right. 

A superpower has no choice but to maintain an interest in events 
throughout the world. At times, that must include propping up 
friendly governments and imposing sanctions on unfriendly ones. It 
also includes supplying "freedom fighters" it supports and helping 
combat "guerrillas" it doesn't. And it also includes the use of uncon- 
ventional warfare; in various ways, all the armies of the world em- 
ploy it. Failure to do so when your enemy does means you will lose. 
We cannot be ingenuous about war. 

But this isn't the point. One can accept that one government's 



166 

intervention in the political affairs of another or the use of uncon- 
ventional warfare is sometimes necessary. It does not follow, how- 
ever, that a private organization, elected by no one and accountable 
to no one, has that same prerogative. A nongovernmental federation, 
which the World Anti-Communist League purports to be, does not 
have the right to carry out its own foreign policy and certainly not 
to conduct war. 

Which is exactly what the World Anti-Communist League is 
doing. Through the financial largesse of some of its members, it is 
funding guerrilla movements throughout the world, and through its 
advocacy and practice of unconventional warfare it is leaving a 
bloody trail throughout Central America. 

Perhaps what is most wrong with the World Anti-Communist 
League is what it hides behind and what it has rejected. In the 
name of anti-communism, it has embraced those responsible for 
death squads, apartheid, torture, and the extermination of Europe- 
an Jewry. Along the way, it has repudiated democratic government 
as a viable alternative, either to govern or to combat communism. 
The Latin League chapters view representational government as 
only the first step toward leftist takeover. The Asian chapters in 
South Korea and Taiwan have never even considered democracy 
as a possible alternative to rigid dictatorship. American League 
members have spurned the fiat of Congress (and possibly violated 
the United States Neutrality Act in the process) by supplying Nica- 
raguan guerrillas when American government funds were cut off. 

Most people in the West would consider themselves anti-com- 
munists. Few would argue that a person living under a communist 
regime is any better off than his counterpart in a country ruled by a 
right-wing dictatorship. And any Westerner who has traveled in a 
communist-ruled country and seen the bread lines, secret police, and 
general unhappiness would come away with the conclusion that there 
was something inherently wrong with the system. Consequently, 
few would see anything wrong with an organization that calls itself 
anti-communist. 

Just as the Nazis used their anti-Comintern policy, so the World 
Anti-Communist League too uses this sentiment to its advantage, 
seriously damaging a respectable cause in the process. It makes a 
mockery of individuals and organizations seeking to bring about pos- 



Z67 

itive change in communist countries. It is a slander against genuine 
freedom fighters and all those who work toward bringing democracy 
to their nations. Ultimately, the World Anti-Communist League is 
an obscenity directed at those it pretends to represent. 



EPILOGUE 



As 1986 begins, the World Anti-Communist League seems 
well on its way to accomplishing its goal of becoming the vanguard 
of global anti-communist activism. Under the tutelage of former Ma- 
jor General John Singlaub ; the League has become the primary ve- 
hicle for nongovernmental support for rightist guerrilla movements 
worldwide, from the Nicaraguan contras to the Afghan mujahedeen. 

It wasn't until the fall of 1985 that the true importance of the 
League to the Reagan Administration's strategy to aid anti-Marxist 
rebels was revealed. Singlaub admitted that, after the 1984 Congres- 
sional cut-off of CIA aid to the contras, he had received not just the 
blessing, but the guidance of White House and National Security 
Council officials to fill the void through private fundraising Senior 
Administration officials confirmed that Lt. Colonel Oliver North, 
deputy director for political-military affairs on the National Security 
Council, had been directing efforts to obtain private aid to supply, 
arm, and advise the contras. At the same time, Singlaub identified 
North as his liaison to the Reagan Administration. 

In a similar vein, in the February 1985 issue of Life, one of the 
authors exposed the activities of Bruce Jones, the CIA liaison to the 
contras in northern Costa Rica. After the revelation, Jones, who had 
also privately discussed his plan to establish a Costa Rican death 
squad, was forced to return to the United States. He now works for 
Singlaub and helped set up the Tucson chapter of the United States 
Council for World Freedom. 

Another clue to the warmth shown by the Reagan Administration 



169 

toward Singlaub is the tax-exempt status granted Singlaub's United 
States Council for World Freedom (USCWF) in 1982. While the IRS 
Los Angeles district office said there was no precedent for giving such 
an organization tax-exempt status ; IRS headquarters in Washington 
approved the application. As a precondition for this windfall, Albert 
Koen, then treasurer of USCWF, had agreed that "at no time will the 
USCWF ever contemplate providing materiel or funds to any revo- 
lutionary, counterrevolutionary or liberation movement/' a pledge 
that they have rather brazenly violated. 

All of this serves to underscore the dramatic dovetailing of inter- 
ests between the Reagan Administration and the World Anti-Com- 
munist League. The Administration dreams of "rolling back" 
communism, a goal that both Singlaub and the League have been 
promoting for years. Since his ascension in the League, Singlaub has 
called for a repeal of the Congressional ban on aid to the anti-Marxist 
Angolan resistance movement; in 1985, the White House succeeded 
in lifting the ban and began to push for a military assistance program. 
At the same time, Congress reinstated aid to the contras and CIA 
support for the Cambodian guerrillas, both of which Singlaub had 
lobbied for intensely. In 1984, Singlaub established WACL commit- 
tees to assist guerrillas in eight Marxist countries; in 1985, the Rea- 
gan Administration considered a plan to establish "freedom fighter" 
bureaus to fund and coordinate the insurgencies in these same eight 
countries. 

With his Administration support, Singlaub has become less hesi- 
tant about revealing the League's true mission. According to a Sep- 
tember/October 1985 Common Cause article, "Singlaub spoke proudly 
about his work with the rebels ... He said that in the last year he 
has raised 'tens of millions of dollars' for arms and ammunition, and 
millions more for non-military supplies." 

Since the U.S. Neutrality Act bars a private American organization 
from supplying weapons to foreign groups, Singlaub has established a 
secret overseas bank account where donors send their money to buy 
weapons. Many of these donors, according to Singlaub and Congres- 
sional aides, are his comrades in the World Anti-Communist League, 
notably the governments of Taiwan, South Korea, and Saudi Arabia. 

Singlaub's overt militancy and the Administration ties to his ef- 
forts have raised the serious concern of congressmen in both political 
parties that the private aid circumvents congressional restrictions. 



270 



Representative Jim Leach (Republican of Iowa) called the private 
groups "international vigilantes" engaged in "privately funded ter- 
rorism." 

"What we've done/ ; Leach said, "is unleashed a force that's ac- 
countable to nobody." 

These arguments appear to be falling on deaf ears within the Rea- 
gan Administration and there is no sign that the "privatization of 
war" will be stopped any time soon. In fact, the occasion of the 
September 1985 World Anti-Communist League conference held in 
Dallas, exhibited the increasing interest of wealthy American con- 
servatives in the League's plans. Mingling with anti-communist guer- 
rilla leaders from around the world, including contra chiefs Enrique 
Bermudez and Adolfo Calero, Angolan Holden Roberto and Afghan 
Dr. Ikram Gran, were a covey of wealthy Texans. Among them 
was Ellen Garwood, most noted for giving Singlaub $65,000 toward 
the purchase of a helicopter for the contras. Billionaire Nelson Bunker 
Hunt, who once tried to corner the world silver market, also cut a 
wide path, buying an entire table for' the $500-a-plate International 
Freedom Fighters Dinner. Providing security for the ultra-right glitter- 
ati was Tom Posey, head of the Alabama-based mercenary group, 
Civilian Military Assistance, and a team of his soldiers. 

Other guests at the conference were famous for more sinister rea- 
sons. Mario Sandoval Alarcon, the head of Guatemala's "party of 
organized violence," was there, as, reportedly, was newcomer Yves 
Gignac, a former leader of the French Secret Army Organization 
(OAS) who spent five years in prison for his role in an assassination 
plot against Charles de Gaulle. 

But there were others who were not so famous and should have 
no desire to be. Chirila Ciuntu, the Iron Guardist wanted for war 
crimes in Romania, attended, as did John Kosiak, the Byelorussian 
Nazi collaborator. Yaroslav Stetsko, the Ukrainian who presided over 
the massacre of 7,000 Jews in the city of Lvov, was represented by 
his wife, Slava. 

While the four-day Dallas summit was the League's highlight for 
1985, its members remained active on their home fronts. Their ac- 
tions were consistent with League tradition. 

In the United States, Eastern European exile groups linked to the 
League mounted a vitriolic attack on the Justice Department's Office 



I7i 

for Special Investigations (OSI), the unit responsible for prosecuting 
Nazi war criminals still at large. Charging that the OSI relied on 
information supplied by the Soviet KGB, these emigre groups, to- 
gether with some New Right organizations, sought to curtail or elim- 
inate the office. Even Singlaub took up the call, voicing his concern 
about the OSPs methods to one of the authors. Often, however, the 
anti-OSI lobby was its own worst enemy. 

"Equality under the law," Dr. Eduard Rubel, a Board Director of 
the Captive Nations Committee, wrote to a host of government 
officials, "is one of the few precepts that stands between Eastern 
European ethnics and the Jewish Zionist special interest groups, cor- 
ruption of power and ultimate tyranny in its many guises in Wash- 
ington." 

For a time, this campaign appeared to find sympathy in the White 
House itself. Pat Buchanan, the White House Communications Di- 
rector, was seen as spearheading efforts to eliminate OSI until a pub- 
lic outcry forced the move to be abandoned. 

In South Korea and Taiwan, there were no signs of an end to the 
sort of repression that serves as a model for other League chapters. 
Kim Dae Jung, the leading opponent to South Korea's military dic- 
tatorship, was allowed to return from a U.S. exile but was immedi- 
ately placed under house arrest, where he remains today. The 
Kuomintang regime ruling Taiwan showed no signs of sharing power 
with the Taiwanese majority and continued to serve as a political 
warfare training ground for military officers of right-wing Latin na- 
tions. While the FBI linked the California murder of journalist David 
Liu to high-ranking Taiwanese military intelligence officers, the scan- 
dal eventually died down and caused no lasting rift with the Reagan 
Administration. 

By 1986, the League had lost some of its steadfast friends in Latin 
American governments, as democratic elections in Uruguay, Argenti- 
na, Cuatemala, and Bolivia brought an end to military rule. Far from 
merely being out of office, some of the League's staunchest Latin 
allies had hit on hard times. Former Argentine dictator General Jorge 
Rafael Videla, who had triumphantly presided over the 1980 CAL 
conference in Buenos Aires, is now serving a life sentence for mass 
murder. The unprecedented trial by the civilian Alfonsin government 
was a dramatic repudiation of the military's anti-communist reign of 



171 



terror in the late 1970s, the "dirty war" that had later been emulated 
in El Salvador and Honduras. 

In Central America, the killing goes on. Formerly neutral Costa Rica 
has adopted an increasingly militant stance against Sandinista Nicara- 
gua, a policy shift strongly advocated by both the World Anti-Commu- 
nist League and the Reagan Administration. Honduras remains the 
primary staging ground for the contras, who have grown and expanded 
their operations, thanks, in large part, to the League's aid. CAUSA, the 
anti-communist political arm of the Reverend Sun Myung Moon's 
Unification Church, still maintains an office in the Honduran capital. 
"The Spiritual Father'' is now able to play a more active role in CAUSA 
and other Church fronts since his August 1985, release from a U.S. 
prison where he served over a year for tax evasion. 

In Guatemala, the frenzy of the government-sanctioned death squads 
rose in intensity during the autumn of 1985 as guerrilla forces appeared 
to expand their theaters of operations, and general elections drew near. 
The ubiquitous Mario Sandoval Alarcon was once again a presidential 
candidate, as was his former protege, Leonel Sisniega Otero. Liberal 
Christian Democrat Vinicio Cerezo won the presidency in a December 
1985 run-off. 

In El Salvador, the summer of 1985 saw the beginning of an 
ambitious psychological warfare program by the government to un- 
dermine the morale of the guerrillas and to woo away their civilian 
supporters. Senior military officers in charge of the campaign openly 
credited Taiwan for their inspiration and expertise. 

"We borrowed from many different models," Lieutenant Colonel 
Jose Ricardo Fuentes told one of the authors in July 1985, "but we 
found that the Taiwanese concepts of political warfare were the ones 
we liked best." 

On the civilian side, San Salvador was the site of a May 1985 right- 
wing summit. The conference, which included many WACL mem- 
bers, focused on the need to involve civilians in the region's fight against 
communism. The resulting "Declaration of San Salvador" announced 
the Central American Anti-Communist Defence Accord: 

"Its purpose is to strengthen a Central American Civilan Military 
Alliance. Its objective is to form a combative force with the capacity 
for struggle to eradicate all communist threat from the area." 

The Declaration's signatories included Costa Rica's WACL head, 
Bernal Urbina Pinto, several former CAL members, anti-Castro Cu- 



273 



ban exiles, and representatives of guerrilla groups from Angola and 
Nicaragua. Signing for the United States Council for World Freedom 
and John Singlaub was American League member Dr. Anthony 
Bouscaren. 

Perhaps the most "illustrious" speaker at the conference was Gua- 
temalan Leonel Sisniega Otero: 

"We have met many times in many places. This meeting changes 
the situation, because it is setting the foundations for the fight against 
communism in general. Long live Worldwide Anti-Communism!" 

In October 1985, El Salvador's infamous Roberto D ; Aubuisson 
announced his resignation as the chief of his Nationalist Republican 
Alliance (ARENA) party. While insiders confirmed that "Major Bob" 
remained the de facto strongman, he was "publicly" replaced by a 
businessman, whose reputation suffered none of D'Aubuisson's no- 
toriety. The former intelligence officer announced his intention to 
travel the provinces and head a new political institute where he would 
train party cadres in "everything I learned in Taiwan." At the same 
time, LyAubuisson is once again looking longingly to the World 
Anti-Communist League for support. 

"I'm going to see if we can reactivate CAL again. It's very nec- 
essary," said Roberto D'Aubuisson in October. "I want to start to 
organize the Salvadoran chapter . . . Now I'll have time for these 
little things, and I'll see if we can't take a little trip over to the World 
League in Taiwan." 

As D'Aubuisson's case illustrates, the World Anti-Communist 
League, for all its new-found propriety, its philanthropic friends in 
Texas and influential allies in Washington, does not seem able to 
sever its ties to those who bloodstain its image. The League remains 
their organization of choice. 



APPENDIX 
THE LEAGUE /CIST 



This is a partial list of individuals, in alphabetical order and with their 
nation of origin ; who have attended conferences of the World Anti-Com- 
munist League. 

Mario Sandoval A larcon (Guatemala): former vice-president of Guatemala and head 
of the National Liberation Movement (MLN), "the party of organized vio- 
lence." Called "Godfather" for his role as mentor to Central American death 
squads, Sandoval is held responsible for much of his nation's death squad 
killings. 

Giorgio Almirante (Italy): an official in the government of Benito Mussolini; head of 
the extreme-right and violent Italian Social Movement (MSI). 

Representative John M. Ashbrook (United States): Republican congressman from Ohio, 
now deceased. 

Carlos Barbieri Filho (Brazil): neo-fascist; reportedly operates a business front in 
Paraguay to launder South Korean and Taiwanese funds. Handles the logistics 
of sending South American military officers to Taiwan for political warfare 
training. 

Ivor Benson (South Africa): anti-Semitic and racist writer; correspondent for Liberty 
Lobby. 

St C. de Berkelaar (Netherlands): former SS officer and president of Sint Martins- 
fonds, an organization of three to four hundred former Dutch SS officers. 



176 



Lady Birdwood (Great Britain): general secretary of the British League for European 
Freedom and supporter of the neo-fascist National Front. 

Jurgjls Bobelis (Lithuania): wanted in the Soviet Union for war crimes; currently 
residing in Dorchester, Massachusetts. 

Dr. Anton Boni facie (Croatia): wanted in Yugoslavia for war crimes as head of 
cultural affairs of the Foreign Ministry in the Ustasha regime of Ante Pavelic; 
member of the American chapter of the Croatian Liberation Movement and 
author of several books and monographs defending the Ustasha regime. Now 
living in Chicago. 

Anthony Bouscar en (United States): professor at LeMoyne University; on the board 
of current American League chapter. Served on grant committee for Wydiffe 
Draper's Pioneer Fund, which seeks to prove blacks genetically inferior to 
whites, and has written articles for Roger Pearson's journals. 

Francisco Buitrago Martinez (Nicaragua): alleged death squad leader and secret police 
official during Anastasio Somoza's reign; assassinated by Sandinistas in 1978. 

EricButier (Australia): head of the Australian League of Rights; a leading anti-Semite 
and historical revisionist. 

Adolfo Calero (Nicaragua): businessman opposed to Somoza, now a leader of the 
Nicaraguan Democratic Front (FDN) contra force fighting the Sandinista re- 
gime. 

John Carbaugh (United States): former legislative aide to Senator Jesse Helms and 
housemate of Roger Pearson. A chief liaison between American New Right, 
Argentina, Sandoval Alarcon, and Roberto D'Aubuisson. Fired for leaking 
documents on Taiwan arms sales to the press; now in private law practice. 

Walter Chopiwskyj (Ukraine): emigre living in Arizona; an official of the National 
Captive Nations Committee. 

Chirila Ciuntu (Romania): member of the Iron Cuard; took part in the January 1941 
massacre in Bucharest. Admits being in the Prefecture while Jews were being 
tortured and murdered. Currently living in Windsor, Canada, and still active 
in Iron Cuard activities. 

Ray Cline (United States): OSS officer during World War II; CIA station chief in 
Taiwan, 1958-1962; deputy director of the CIA, 1964-1967. Now senior 
associate of the Georgetown University Center for Strategic and International 
Studies. 



177 



Robert Close (Belgium): former major general; head of Belgian League chapter and 
senator of Belgium. 

Roberto Cordon (Guatemala): aide to Sandoval Alarcon. 

Pastor Coronet (Paraguay): chief of secret police. Accused by survivors of participat- 
ing in torture, and charged by U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration of 
being a principal figure in a 1970s heroin-smuggling ring. 

Adotfo Cuellar (El Salvador): rightist, called a compulsive killer and sadist by former 
comrades. Assassinated in 1981. 

Roberto D'Aubuisson (El Salvador): former major in military intelligence apparatus; 
charged with being responsible for coordinating the nation's rightist death 
squads. Established the ARENA political party with the assistance of Ameri- 
can New Right leaders. 

Stefano Delle Chiaie (Italy): terrorist wanted for murder, bombings, kidnappings, 
and armed robbery in France, Italy, and Spain. Believed to be in Paraguay. 

Colonel Do Dang Cong (South Vietnam): military aide to former President Thieu 
during Vietnam war. Currently living in Illinois. 

Lev Dobriansky (Ukraine): chairman of the National Captive Nations Committee; 
president of the Ukrainian Congress Committee; professor at Georgetown 
University; currently U.S. ambassador to the Bahamas. 

Ivan Docheff (Bulgaria): leader of the fascist Bulgarian National Union of Legions in 
the 1930s; sentenced to death in absentia for war crimes. Met with Hitler in 
March 1934; advocated Bulgarian alignment with the Nazis during World 
War II and was editor of anti-Semitic newspaper Prelom. During the war, 
served as director of the Oral Propaganda Section of the Directorate of Nation- 
al Propaganda in the Axis government. Fled in the 1944 Soviet invasion and 
formed the Bulgarian National Front in 1 947. Emigrated to the United States 
in 1963 from Canada and was president of the New York chapter of the 
Republican Ethnic Coalition in 1968 and 1972. Was on Executive Board of 
the Republican Heritage Groups (Nationalities) Council, a branch of the Re- 
publican Party. Now an American citizen living in New Jersey. 

Representative Robert Dornan (United States): Republican congressman from Cali- 
fornia. 

Lee Edwards (United States): chairman of the Lee Edwards & Associates public 
relations firm; professional fund-raiser for New Right. Was executive secretary 
of the Committee of One Million and a registered foreign agent for the World 
Antl-Comnninlst League until 1982. 



Z78 



John Fisher (United States): president of the American Security Council. 

Heman Landivar Flores (Bolivia): ultra-rightist; wrote a letter to the commander in 
chief of the Bolivian armed forces urging a coup to cleanse the government 
of "subversive" elements. 

Roger Fontaine (United States): Latin American specialist for the National Security 
Council; currently an editorialist for The Washington Times. 

PaulFromm (Canada): neo-Nazi and historical revisionist; associate of Patrick Walsh. 

Jon Galster (Penmark): a leader of the "April 9 movement," defending the Nazi 
invasion of Denmark on that date in 1940. 

Lewis Gann (Great Britain): southern Africa expert for the Hoover Institute. 

Jake Garn (United States): Republican Senator from Utah. 

Mihail Gheorgiu (Romania): member of the Iron Guard movement; now living in 
France. 

Ron Gostick (Canada): leading racialist; headed Christian Action Movement; editor 
of Canadian Intelligence Service. 

Lieutenant General Daniel O. Graham (United States): former director of U.S. De- 
fense Intelligence Agency. Served as contact between Reagan Administration 
and Guatemalan rightists in 1980. Now heads High Frontiers; heavily in- 
volved with CAUSA, the political arm of the Unification Church. 

Elmore Greaves (United States): organizer of the segregationist Citizens Council of 
Mississippi. 

Nicholas Mihanovich Guerrero (Argentina): wealthy industrialist; reportedly a liaison 
between the Mexican Tecos and the Argentine neo-Nazi Tacuaras. 

Raimundo Guerrero (Mexico): professor at the Autonomous University of Gua- 
dalajara; principal leader of the Tecos. 

Tor Hadland (Norway): leader of Norwegian Action Front, a neo-Nazi shock troop 
responsible for bombings and vandalism. 

Billy James Hargis (United States): American evangelist; head of Christian Anti- 
Communist Crusade. Ran anti-communist training schools in Tulsa, Okla- 
homa. 



179 



Heinrich Hartle (Germany): associate of Nazi ideologue Alfred Rosenberg; official of 
Hitler Youth during World War II. 

Stejpan Hefer (Croatia): governor-general of Baranja County during Ustasha regime; 
responsible for the liquidation of the region's Jews and Serbs. Wanted for war 
crimes in Yugoslavia. Inherited leadership of the Croatian Liberation Move- 
ment after death of Ante Pavelic. Attended WACL and ABN conferences in 
the United States. Reportedly died in Argentina in 1973. 

Jesse Helms (United States): Republican senator from North Carolina. 

Bruce Herschenson (United States): deputy special assistant to former President Nixon. 

Duncan Hunter (United States): Republican congressman from California. 

Bert Hurlbut (United States): wealthy Texas oilman; member of the advisory board 
of the current American League chapter and an official of the National Con- 
servative Political Action Committee (NCPAC). 

Count Hans Huyn (Germany): West German member of Parliament. 

Reed Irvine (United States): chairman of Accuracy in Media (AIM); frequent speaker 
at CAUSA conferences. 

Sheik Ahmed Satah Jamjoon (Saudi Arabia): member of the Saud royal family; op- 
erates a heavy construction firm in Saudi Arabia. Is on the Executive Board 
of the League, representing the Middle Eastern Solidarity Council. 

Ivan Jelic (Croatia): leader of a Ustasha cell in West Germany. 

Walter Judd (United States): former chairman of the Committee of One Million and 
a Republican congressman from Minnesota. 

David Keene (United States): president of the World Youth Crusade for Freedom; 
chairman of the John Birch Society's Young Americans for Freedom. 

Jill Knight (Great Britain): Conservative member of Parliament. 

Yeshio Kodama (Japan): fascist youth gang member; sent to prison in the 1930s for 
an assassination attempt against the prime minister. Made a fortune in China 
during World War II on war profiteering. Found guilty of war crimes in 1946 
and sent to prison; released by the American Occupation authorities two years 
later. An important financial founder of Japan's Liberal Democratic Party; 
helped create Shokyo Rengo and was warlord of the nation's organized crime, 
or yakuza. A principal figure in the Lockheed scandal. Died in 1985. 



Z80 



John Kosiak (Byelorussia): Wanted in the Soviet Union for war crimes. Appointed 
by the Nazi SS as an engineer in 1942; participated in the Nazi-controlled 
Second All-Byelorussian Congress in 1944. Was in charge of rebuilding war- 
damaged factories using slave labor; constructed Jewish ghetto in Minsk. Es- 
caped to Canada, then to the United States; became active in politics, repre- 
senting Byelorussia in the New York chapter of Ethnic Americans for Nixon- 
Agnew. Was chairman of the U.S. branch of the Byelorussian Liberation 
Front. Currently lives in Chicago. 

Dimitri Kasmowich/Kosmowicz (Byelorussia): appointed by the Nazis as police chief 
of the Smolensk region during World War II. Purged the area of partisans 
and Jews. Underwent SS commando training in 1944; led anti-partisan op- 
erations behind Soviet lines. Escaped to Germany, then France, where he was 
contracted by British intelligence. Later hired by U.S. intelligence to organize 
Byelorussian refugees against communists. President of the Byelorussian Lib- 
eration Front; currently lives in Munich, West Germany. 

Ku Cheng-kang (Republic of China-Taiwan): high official of Kuomintang govern- 
ment and honorary chairman-for-life of the World Anti-Communist League. 
Senior policy adviser to the president; president of the Republic of China's 
National Assembly. 

Anthony Kubek (United States): former adviser to U.S. Senate Internal Security Com- 
mittee; professor of political science at Troy State University in Alabama. 

Osami Kuboki (Japan): leader of the political arm of the Reverend Sun Myung 
Moon's Unification Church in Japan; head of the Japanese League chapter, 
created by Japanese war criminals Sasakawa and Kodama. 

Suzanne Labin (France): prominent conservative; leader of the Center for the Polit- 
ical Warfare of the Soviet. 

Wilhelm Landig (A ustria): SS officer during World War II. Active in the Northern 
League and in the fascist European Social Movement. 

Thomas A. Lane (United States): retired major general; received Distinguished Service 
Medal; was president of the Mississippi River Commission, commissioner of 
the District of Columbia, and chairman of the United States Constitutional 
Action Committee. 

Jorge Prieto Laurens (Mexico): head of the Inter-American Confederation of Conti- 
nental Defense; a leading member of the Teco secret society. 

John LeBoutiUier (United States): former Republican congressman from New York. 
Fined $7,000 by the Federal Elections Commission for taking an illegal cam- 
paign contribution in 1983. 



Z81 



Colonel Lee Byung Hee (South Korea): Korean CIA director of the Seoul region fol- 
lowing the 1961 coup. Was minister-without-portfolio for Park and liaison 
for political deals with Japan. 

General Lee Eung-Joon (South Korea): graduate of Japan's Imperial Military Acad- 
emy; served in Japanese army until the end of World War II. Was army chief 
of staff in 1949, minister of communications in 1955; currently an adviser to 
the Association of Veterans in Reserve and a member of the State Affairs 
Advisory Council of South Korea. 

General Honkon Lee (South Korea): member of the State Affairs Advisory Council 
of South Korea. Graduated from Japan's Imperial Military Academy and served 
with the Japanese during World War II. Former army chief of staff and am- 
bassador to Philippines and Great Britain. 

Ake Lindsten (Sweden): active in pro-Nazi movements in Sweden during World War 
II; chairman of the neo-Nazi Swedish National League. 

Major General A. Magi-Braschi (Italy): commander in the Italian government's anti- 
terrorist campaign in the 1970s. 

Ferdinand Marcos (Philippines): president of the Philippines. 

General Guillertno Sudrez Mason (Argentina): former army corps commander; is now 
a fugitive wanted by Argentine courts for his role in the "dirty war." 

Donald Martin (Great Britain): national director of the ultra-right British League of 
Rights. British correspondent for Liberty Lobby. 

Brigadier General Theodore C. Mataxis (United States): served in World War II, 
Korea, and Vietnam; received training at, among others, the Chemical War- 
fare School, the Strategic Intelligence School, and the Army War College. 

William Mazzoco (United States): former counterinsurgency instructor at the Foreign 
Service Institute; director of programs for the security and surveillance of aid 
programs to Vietnam. Member of a panel on the Soviet Union and the Mid- 
dle East at a CAUSA-sponsored seminar in September 1984. 

James McClure (United States): Republican senator from Idaho. 

Carlos Midence Pivaral (Guatemala): ultra-rightist; nephew of Sandoval Alarcon. 
Accused of being a death squad leader; acted as intermediary between Guate- 
malan rightists and D'Aubuisson in El Salvador. 



Jostf Mikus (Czechoslovakia): Charge d'affaires In Spain for the fascist Slovak Re- 



282 



public during World War II; founder and chairman of the Slovak World 
Congress, composed of former officials of the Nazi-puppet Tiso government 
of Slovakia, which exterminated seventy-two thousand Jews during World 
War II. Lives in Virginia. 

Hugo Miori (Bolivia): businessman and ultra-rightist. Had business ties with Nazi 
war criminal Klaus Barbie; brought Italian terrorist delle Chiaie to 1980 CAL 
conference. 

Nazareno Mollicotte (Italy): a leader of the outlawed fascist organization Ordine 
Nuovo, linked to the 1980 Bologna train station bombing, which killed over 
eighty people. 

Jim Morris (United States): former Special Forces major in Vietnam; editor of mer- 
cenary Eagle magazine. 

Robert Morris (United States): former chief counsel for the U.S. Senate Internal 
Security Subcommittee; heads the Coalition to Restore Internal Security Com- 
mittee. Sought the presidential nomination of the American Independent Party 
in 1976. 

Theodore Oberlander (Germany): professor of economics at the University of Ko- 
nigsberg in the 1930s; joined the Nazi Party in 1934. Commander of the 
Ukrainian Nachtingall (Nightingale) division during the invasion of the Soviet 
Union. Accused by the Soviet Union of coordinating and ordering massacres 
of Jews, partisans, and Communist Party officials in the Lvov region in 1941. 
After the war, was West German minister for refugee affairs; resigned in 1961 
after details of his Nazi background were disclosed. Headed the German League 
chapter; now living in West Germany. 

Anton Otechinik (Byelorussia): represents Byelorussian Liberation Front in Australia. 

Jesus Palacios (Spain): youth leader of the Anti-Marxist Intellectual Group of Spain 
and the Spanish Circle of Friends of Europe (CEDADE) who emulate Mus- 
solini and Hitler. 

Paul Pearson (A ustralia): chairman of the Australian World Freedom League; as one 
of nation's leading anti-Semites, writes articles and monographs attacking 
Jews. 

Roger Pearson (Great Britain): pre-eminent neo-Nazi and "scientific racist"; orga- 
nized the Northern League in 1958. Received a reported $30,000 from Wy- 
cliffe Draper's Pioneer Fund, which seeks to prove blacks genetically inferior 
to whites. Was a League Executive Board member in the 1970s and world 
chairman in 1978-79. Now heads the Council on American Affairs in Wash- 
ington, DC. 



283 



Bias Pihar {Spain): head of ultra-right Fuerza Nueva political party, whose members 
were responsible for dozens of killings in the late 1970s. 

Stefan Possony (United States): senior fellow at the Hoover Institute. 

Dr. Bastolme Puiggros (Spain): leader of the Spanish Intellectual Anti-Marxist Group, 
an ultra-right band linked to terrorist actions in the 1970s. 

Alexander Rahmistriuc (alias Ronnett) (Romania): member of the Iron Guard; accused 
by Jewish survivors of taking part in the massacres of January 1941. Fled to 
Germany and entered the United States through Ganada. Has written a lau- 
datory history of the Iron Guard and remains active in Iron Guard activities 
in exile. Editor of Potomac magazine; chairman of the Romanian American 
National Congress. Currently practices medicine in Illinois and is active in 
Republican Party politics. 

Dr. Rafael Rodriguez (Mexico): professor at the Autonomous University of Gua- 
dalajara and leading Teco secret society figure. 

Nathan Ross (Liberia): Former mayor of the capital, Monrovia. Executive board 
member representing the Organization of African Freedom. 

David Rowe (United States): former chairman of the National Council of Scholars; 
a professor at Yale University. 

Dinko Sakic (Croatian): ultra-nationalist terrorist; wanted in Sweden for orchestrat- 
ing the assassination of the Yugoslav ambassador in 1971. Also charged with 
complicity in murders throughout Western Europe and the bombing of a 
civilian plane in 1972, killing twenty-seven civilians. 

General Alejo S. Santos (Philippines): guerrilla leader against Japanese occupation in 
World War II; governor of fiulacan Province under President Ferdinand Mar- 
cos. 

Andres Nazario Sargen (Cuba): secretary general of Alpha 66, an anti-Castro Cuban 
emigre organization linked to bombings and assassinations in the United States 
and Europe. 

Ryoichi Sasakawa (Japan): fascist leader in the 1930s; sent to prison for a plot to 
assassinate the former premier. Was a member of the Diet during World War 
II; advocated widening the war theater throughout Asia. After the war, class- 
ified as Class A war criminal by U.S. Occupation Forces; was released from 
prison two years later. Helped create Japan's Liberal Democratic Party. Joined 
with Kodamn to found Shokyo Rengo in 1967. Chairman of the 1970 League 
conference In Jnpnn. 



Z84 



Fred Schwarz (United States): ultra-right spokesman of the Christian Anti-Commu- 
nist Crusade. 

Colonel Shin Chan (South Korea): retired from the air force; spokesman for the 
ministry of national defense in 1975; executive director of the Association for 
the Promotion of War Industry in 1979. Director of information and of the 
education department of the WACL in Korea in 1981. 

John Simicin (Romania): member of the Iron Guard; convicted by a Romanian court 
for participation in the January 1941 massacre. Employed by the American 
intelligence service after World War II. Living in East Chicago, Indiana; is 
still active in Iron Guard activities in the Chicago area. 

Major General John K. Singlaub (United States): former commander of the Joint 
Unconventional Warfare Special Operations Group in Vietnam; was chief of 
staff of the United Nations Command in South Korea. Outspoken advocate 
of unconventional warfare. Retired from the military in 1978 and is currently 
world chairman of the League. 

Sichan Siv (Cambodia/Kampuchea): leader of Khmer People's Liberation Front. 

Admiral Sohn Won yH (South Korea): former vice-admiral of the navy, navy chief 
of operations, minister of national defense, and chairman of the board of 
directors of the WACL Freedom Center in South Korea. 

Representative Gerald Solomon (United States): Republican congressman from New 
York. 

Chao Sopsaisana (Laos): member of the royal family; head of the Laotian chapter 
of the League. Currently living in Perpignan, France. 

Yaroslav Stetsko (Ukraine): imprisoned in Poland in the 1930s for his role in the 
murder of Polish government officials; became an important leader of Ukraini- 
an nationalists allied with Nazi Germany. Named himself premier of the 
Ukraine on June 30, 1941, in Lvov and was supreme authority during the 
roundup or murder of approximately seven thousand Lvov Jews. Allegedly 
was hired by British Intelligence in 1946 to organize Ukrainian refugees 
against the Soviet Union. Was sentenced to death in absentia for war crimes 
in Ukraine; has met with many high government officials, including President 
Reagan and Vice-President Bush, on visits to the United States. Currently 
living in Munich, West Germany. 

General Alfredo Stroessner (Paraguay): president of a government accused of partici- 
pating in the genocide of ethnic Indians, the harboring of Nazi war criminals, 



185 



child prostitution, gross human rights abuse, and heroin smuggling. Has ruled 
with a state of siege decree for thirty-two years. 

Steven D. Symms (United States): Republican senator from Idaho. 

Earl Thomas (United States): "storm trooper" of the American Nazi Party. 

Strom Thurmond (United States): Republican senator from South Carolina. 

Paul Vankerhoven (Belgium): head of Cerde des Nations et l'Eventail and a member 
of the European Parliament. 

General Jorge Rafael Videla (Argentina): former junta chief; currently in an Argentine 
prison serving life sentence for ordering illegal detention, torture, and murder 
of suspects during "dirty war." 

General Sir Walter Walker (Great Britain): former commander in chief of NATO 
Forces-North. 

Sir Patrick Watt (Great Britain): former general in command of British troops in 
Northern Ireland. Editor of Intelligence International, Ltd. 

Patrick Walsh (Canada): neo-Nazi racist; contributing editor of Liberty Lobby. Mem- 
ber of the League Executive Board. 

Paul Werner (Germany): Represented the Unification Church in West Germany. Is 
now in charge of the Moon fishing fleet in Louisiana. 

General yoo Haksoung (South Korea): army general; became director of KCIA (re- 
named National Security Planning Agency) for General Chun Doo Hwan's 
military government in 1980. 

Talivadis Zarins (Latvia): an official of the Daugavas Vanagi, a council of Latvian 
war criminals based in West Germany. 



ACRONYM yCIST 



AAA : Argentine Anti-Communist Alliance 

ABN: Anti-Bolshevik Bloc of Nations 

ACWF : American Council for World Freedom 

AID: United States Agency for International Development 

AIM: Accuracy in Media (United States) 

A IP: American Independent Party 

ANA: American-Nicaraguan Association 

ANSESAL: National Security Agency (El Salvador) 

APACL: Asian People's Anti-Communist League; renamed to Asian Pacific Anti- 
Communist League 
APROH: Association of Progress for Honduras 
ARENA : Nationalist Republican Alliance (El Salvador) 
ASC: American Security Council 

CAA : Council on American Affairs 

CAL: Latin American Anti-Communist Confederation 

CAUSA: Confederation of Associations for the Unity of the Societies of America 

CDF: Council for the Defense of Freedom (United States) 

CEDADE: Spanish Circle of Friends of Europe 

CIA : Central Intelligence Agency (United States) 

CIC: Counter-intelligence Corps (United States Army) 

CIS: Council for Inter-American Security (United States) 

COE: Special Operations Command (Honduras) 

CPTS: Coalition for Peace Through Strength (United States) 

DM: National Investigations Administration (Honduras) 

EEC: European Freedom Council 
ELA : Anti-Communist Combat Army (Honduras) 
ESA: Secret Anti-Communist Army (Guatemala) 
ESB: European Social Movement 



Z87 



FALANGE: Armed Forces of National Liberation— War of Extermination 

(EI Salvador) 
FAN: Broad National Front (El Salvador) 
FDN: Nicaraguan Democratic Force 
FDN: Democratic Nationalist Front (El Salvador) 
FEDAL: Federation of Latin American Democratic Entities 
FEMACO: Mexican Anti-Communist Federation 
FMLN: Farabundo Marti National Liberation Front (El Salvador) 
FRU: United Revolutionary Front (Honduras) 
FUR: United Revolutionary Front (Guatemala) 
FUSEP: Public Security Forces (Honduras) 
FUUD: United Democratic University Front (Honduras) 

HOP: Croatian Liberation Movement 

IACCD: Inter-American Confederation of Continental Defense (Mexico) 

KCFF: Korean Cultural and Freedom Foundation (South Korea) 
KCIA : Korean Central Intelligence Agency (South Korea) 
KMT: Kuomintang (Taiwan) 

MAAC: Military Assistance Advisory Group (United States) 
MACHO: Honduran Anti-Communist Movement 
MDN: Nationalist Democratic Movement (Guatemala) 
MESC: Middle Eastern Solidarity Council 
MLN: National Liberation Movement (Guatemala) 
MSI: Italian Social Movement 

NARWACL: North American Regional World Anti-Communist League 

NCNC: National Captive Nations Committee (United States) 

NCPAC: National Conservative Political Action Committee (United States) 

OPEN: Organization for the National Emergency (Costa Rica) 

ORDEN: Democratic Nationalist Organization (El Salvador) 

OSI: Office of Special Investigations, United States Department of Justice 

OSS: Office of Strategic Services (United States) 

OUN: Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists 

PCN: National Conciliation Party (El Salvador) 

PDUD: Public Disorder Intelligence Division, Los Angeles Police Department 
PUA : Unified Anti-Communist Party (Guatemala) 

ROFA: Radio of Free Asia (South Korea) 

IFF: Tradition, Family nnd Property (Brazil) 



Z88 



UAG: Autonomous University of Guadalajara (Mexico) 

UGB. White Warrior's Union (EI Salvador) 

UNAH: National Autonomous University of Honduras 

UNRRA: United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Agency 

UPA: Ukrainian Insurgent Army 

USCWF: United States Council for World Freedom 

WACL: World Anti-Communist League 



JIOTES 



EPIGRAPHS 

ONE: Preamble to Charter of the World Anti-Communist League, Asian Outlook (Taipei, 

Taiwan: June 1968), p. 50. 
TWO: Quoted in R. H. Bailey, Partisans and Guerrillas (New York: Time-Life Books, 

1974), p. 87. 

THREE: Dr. C. J. Untaru, "Past and Future of ABN," How To Defeat Russia: ABN and 

EFC Conferences- London, October 17th.-ZZnd. 4%& (Munich: Press Bureau of the 

Anti-Bolshevik Bloc of Nations, 1969), p. 74. 
FOUR: Quoted in Craig Pyes, "Right Built Itself in Mirror Image of Left for Civil War," 

Albuquerque Journal, December 18, 1983, p. A12. 
FIVE: Alec Dubro and David E. Kaplan, "Soft-Core Fascism," The Village Voice (New 

York: October 4, 1983), p. 27. 
SIX: Statement made by former member of the World Anti-Communist League 

to coauthor in an off-the-record interview in Washington, DC, in March 

1984. 

SEVEN: Fred Schwartz, Asian Outlook (Taipei, Taiwan: June 1971), p. 17. 
EIGHT: Western Destiny, vol. 10, no. 9 (Sausalito, California: November 1965). 
NINE: Juanita Castro, Asian Outlook (Taipei, Taiwan: November 1970), p. 32. 
TEN: Reverend Sun Myung Moon, CAUSA, vol. 4, no. 1 (December 1983). 
ELEVEN: Asian Outlook (Taipei, Taiwan: May 1970), p. 51. 

TWELVE: Former civilian official of Salvadoran government in a nonattributable in- 
terview with coauthor in New York in February 1984. 

THIRTEEN: Excerpts from "A New Strategy for the 1980's," address at the United 
States Council for World Freedom and the North American Region of the World 
Anti-Communist League meeting in Phoenix, Arizona, on April 23, 1982; re- 
printed in ABN Correspondence, vol. 33, nos. 4/5, (New York: July-October 1982). 
pp. 25-28. 

FOURTEEN: Leonel Slsnlega Otero In an October 1980 radio interview. 
FIFTEEN; Orlando de Sola to coauthor in Interview, San Salvador, El Salvador, March 
1984. 



190 



SIXTEEN: Moises Jesus de UHoa Duarte to coauthor in interview, Tegucigalpa, Hon- 
duras, March 1985. 

SEVENTEEN: Oscar Sabon'o to coauthor in interview, San Jose, Costa Rica, April 
1985. 

EIGHTEEN Walter Chopiwskyj, remarks to assembly of 17th. World Anti-Commu- 
nist League conference, San Diego, California, September 4, 1984. 

FOREWORD 

1. WACL Bulletin, vol. 17, no. 2 (Seoul, Korea: Freedom Center; June 1983), p. 77. 

2. Major General John K. Singlaub, "A New Strategy for the 1980's," address at 
the United States Council for World Freedom and the North American Region 
of the World Anti-Communist League meeting in Phoenix, Arizona, on April 
23, 1982; reprinted in ABN Correspondence, vol. 33, nos. 4/5 (New York: July- 
October 1982), p. 25. 

3. On the October 1 8, 1984, edition of the ABC television news show Nightline, 
Nazi investigator Charles Allen alluded to this in discussing the historical origins 
of the CIA unconventional warfare manual that had recently surfaced in Hon- 
duras: "In the early 1950s, up through 1957, at Fort Meade in Maryland, coun- 
terinsurgency programs were put there and installed there by all intelligence 
agencies in the United States, led by the CIA— CIA and military intelligence— 
in which the Nazi experience was drawn upon. . . . Indeed, there were booklets 
of that period that were executed along the lines of counterinsurgency. I think 
there is a direct, concrete continuum relationship between that early period of 
the '50s when such war criminals and collaborators were used in these coun- 
terinsurgency programs as instructors, and the Nicaraguan pamphlet which has 
just been released." 

Parti 

ONE 

1. "Colom Argueta's Last Interview," Latin America Political Report, vol. 13, no. 14, 
(April 6, 1979). 

TWO 

1. Victor Livingston and Dennis Debbaudt, "Bishop Trifa: Prelate or Persecutor?" 
Monthly Detroit (July 1980), pp. 67-68. 

2. Chirila Ciuntu letter to coauthor, January 17, 1985. 

3. Alexander Ronnett, Romanian Nationalism: The Legionary Movement (Chicago: Loy- 
ola University Press, 1974), p. 7. 

4. Hans Rogger and Eugen Webber, The European Right (London: Weidenfeld and 
Nicholson, 1965), p. 522. 

5. Ronnett, op. cit., p. 26. 

6. Livingston and Debbaudt, op. cit., p. 64. 

7. Jane Biberman, "His Magnificent Obsession," The Pennsylvania Gazette, (February 
1983), p. 25. 



Z9i 



8. Lynda Powless, "The War That Won't Go Away/' Windsor Star (Windsor, 
Canada: February 12, 1983), p. B12. 

9. Leigh White, Long Balkan Night (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1944), pp. 
147-48. 

10. Raul Hilberg, The Destruction of European Jewry (New York: Quadrangle Books, 
1961), p. 489. 

11. Ciuntu letter to coauthor, January 17, 1985. 

12. Powless, op. cit., p. B12. 

13. Diary of Admiral Wilhelm Canaris, Kriegstagebuchaufzeichnung iiher die Konferenz 
im Fuhrerzug in llnau, (September 1 2, 1 939). 

14. "For the purpose of delivering a lightning blow against the Soviet Union," a 
German intelligence officer wrote, "Abwehr II . . . must use its agents for kin- 
dlingnational antagonism among the people of the Soviet Union ... I contacted 
Ukrainian National Socialists who were in the German Intelligence Service and 
other members of the nationalist fascist groups. . . . Instructions were given by 
me personally to the leaders of the Ukrainian Nationalists, Melnyk and Ban- 
dera, to organize . . . demonstrations in the Ukraine in order to disrupt the im- 
mediate rear of the Soviet Armies." 

Alexander Dallin, The German Occupation of the Soviet Union (New York: St. Mar- 
tin's Press, 1967), p. 116. 

15. John Alexander Armstrong, Ukrainian Nationalism (Littleton, Colorado: Ukraini- 
an Academic Press, 1963), p. 63. 

16. Surma (Lvov, Ukraine: July 2, 1941). 

17. Hilberg, op. cit., p. 204. 

18. Ibid., p. 205. 

19. Even the sympathetic John Armstrong admitted as much in Ukrainian Nation- 
alism: "Their instrument was the SB or Security Service, forged by Mykola Lebed, 
[the third man in OUN/B] years previously. Though the extent of the 'purges' 
of 'unreliable elements' (primarily East Ukrainians, but including some former 
Melnyk partisans . . . ) is uncertain, there is little question that it was sufficiently 
great to arouse extreme disaffection among the non-OUN/B elements in the en- 
larged partisan movement." 

20. Hilberg, op. cit., pp. 329-30. 

2 1 . Allan A . Ryan, Jr., Quiet Neighbors (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1 984), 
p. 144. 

22. Fitzroy Maclean, The Heretic (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957), p. 124. 

23. Ibid., p. 125. 

24. The Ustashi had a religious mandate in the time of their exile and early days of 
power, enjoying the support of much of the Croatian Catholic clergy. Francis- 
can monks joined Ustasha batallions, and Pavelic bestowed medals on nuns and 
priests for their roles in defending the Fatherland. 

When the Ustashi were ushered into Zagreb by the Germans, Archbishop Ste- 
pinac of Croatia immediately offered his congratulations to the poglavnik and held 
a banquet to celebrate the founding of the new nation. He ordered the procla- 
mation of the Independent state to be delivered from all pulpits of the Catholic 
Church In Croniln on linstcr Sunday and arranged to have Pavelic be received 



191 

by Pope Pius XII. "God," he extolled in the newspaper Neddja on April 27, 1941, 
"who directs the destiny of nations and controls the hearts of kings, has given 
us Ante Pavelic and moved the leader of a friendly and allied people, Adolf Hit- 
ler, to use his victorious troops to disperse our oppressors. . . . Glory be to God, 
our gratitude to Adolf Hitler and loyalty to our Poglavnik, Ante Pavelic." 

Miroslav Filipovic, a Franciscan monk, served for two years as the comman- 
dant of the Jasenovac concentration camp, supervising the extermination of at 
least one hundred thousand victims. On May 25, 1941, a priest, Franjo Kralik, 
wrote in the Katolicki TjeAnik, a Zagreb newspaper: "The Jews who led Europe 
and the entire world to disaster— morally, culturally and economically— devel- 
oped an appetite which nothing less than the world as a whole could satisfy. . . . 
The movement for freeing the world from the Jews is a movement for the ren- 
ascence of human dignity. The all-wise and Almighty God is behind this move- 
ment." 

Some Catholic priests disagreed with Ustashi methods for a more basic reason. 
After recounting stories he had heard of hundreds of women and children being 
thrown alive off a cliff, the Bishop of Mostar lamented, "If the Lord had given 
to the authorities more understanding to handle the conversions to Catholicism 
with skill and intelligence with fewer clashes, and at a more appropriate time, 
the number of Catholics would have grown at least 500,000 to 600,000." 
25. Government of Yugoslavia Petition for Extradition, submitted by Yugoslav Em- 
bassy, Washington, D.C., to Acting Secretary of United States Department of 
State, August 19, 1946. 

THREE 

1. The various "rat lines" running out of post-war Europe have been discussed at 
length by others; the Nazi collaborators now found in the World Anti-Commu- 
nist League were assisted by many different ones. 

Perhaps the most important and widely-used escape route was through the 
refugee offices operating in Rome under the sponsorship of the Vatican Church. 
At these offices, without identification of any kind, a fugitive could, with the 
aid of a sympathetic priest, obtain an affidavit with an alias name and a false 
background. With this new identity, the fugitive could obtain an International 
Red Cross passport. 

The Catholic Church's role in this operation is surely one of the blackest marks 
in its history. In pursuit of propagating the faith, the priests who ran the refugee 
offices assisted nearly anyone, regardless of political background, as long as they 
attested to being anti-Communist Catholics. 

When a U.S. State Department investigator, Vincent La Vista, tried to deter- 
mine why so many refugees were emigrating to South America, he discovered, 
"that in those Latin American countries where the Church is a controlling or 
dominating factor, the Vatican has brought pressure to bear which has resulted 
in the foreign missions of those countries taking an attitude almost favoring the 
entry into their country of former Nazis and former Fascists or other political 
groups, so long as they are anti-communists." 



293 



Other fascists were saved by Reinhard Gehlen. As head of the German Fremde 
Heere Ost (Foreign Armies East), Gehlen had been the overseer of the Nazi collab- 
orator forces in Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union during the war. At the end 
of the war, Gehlen had a vast network of thousands of agents stretching from 
Bulgaria to Lithuania. In 1 946, Gehlen was flown to Washington, D.C. where 
he explained this network to the Americans. "De-Nazified," he became the head 
of the West German intelligence agency, his network intact and now working 
for the Americans. 

"He opened the eyes of the Americans," Iron Guardist Alexander Ronnett 
wrote in admiration on the occasion of Gehlen's death, "and convinced them 
of the communist danger. The majority of American political and military lead- 
ers based their knowledge about the Soviets on Gehlen's documents. The Amer- 
ican Intelligence Service incorporated Gehlen's network . . ." Potomac (Chicago: 
April 1, 1980), p. 38. 

Gehlen was also defended by former Deputy Director of CIA Ray Cline, who 
claims he knew the former Nazi officer well, on the October 18, 1984 edition 
of the ABC television news show Nightline. 

2. Maurizio Cabona, An Interview with Horia Sima, Commander-in-Chief Legion of the Ar- 
changel Michael (NP., presumably reprinted in the United States or Canada, 1977), 
P 17- 

3. On the surface, these different offshoots represent a wide range in political out- 
look. They range from the vicious Jew-baiting of George Boian, to the geopoli- 
tical ruminations of Dr. Alexander Ronnett. 

Boian, a bullet-headed, balding man, operates the Boian News Service and the 
newsletter F Hi Daciei out of his home on East Ninety-first Street in New York 
City. His writings constantly rail against America's "yarmulked bosses" and 
contend that the Jews are in total control of the United States. In 1980, he took 
what was surely an inordinate amount of credit for the election of Ronald Rea- 
gan as President and the defeat of Elizabeth Holtzman (who had spearheaded 
the Congressional pursuit of Trif a) for the Senate. Boian is hardly a pariah within 
the Iron Guard community; a 1980 photograph shows Archbishop Trifa patting 
him on the shoulder at a church reception in Michigan. 

All of which stands in considerable contrast to the writings of Alexander Ron- 
nett, a practicing doctor in Mount Prospect, Illinois, Chairman of the Romanian 
American National Congress and a member of the World Anti-Communist 
League. Ronnett's magazine, Potomac, which consists mainly of reprints of ar- 
ticles by conservative columnists and favorable editorials on the Pinochet gov- 
ernment in Chile, never mentions the Iron Guard or voices overt anti-Semitism. 
Nevertheless, Ronnett, whose real name is Rachmistriuc, is a long-time Iron 
Guardist who, according to Holocaust researchers, participated in the January 
1941 revolt and is accused of being one of the primary financial supporters of 
Guard activities in the Midwest today. He has published monographs bearing 
the Guardist symbol, as well as a laudatory and apologetic history of the Iron 
Guard, dedicated to "the memory of the Legionary martyrs who so willingly 
gave their lives for the freedom of the Romanian Nation." In fact, even his Po- 
tontM ma^a/inr hns the Guard symbol cleverly placed in each corner of the cover. 



194 



4. Solia (Publication of the Romanian Orthodox Episcopate of America, June 1984), 
P-6. 

5. A pamphlet issued by Sima's headquarters on the occasion of the Legionary 
Movement's fortieth anniversary, XL Anniversary of the Foundation of the Rumanian 
Legionary Movement, 19Z7-19&7: Declarations of the Legionary Movement Concerning the 
Fate of the Free World and the Tragedy of the Rumanian People, Madrid, Spain, (October 
1968), throws the support of the Movement "already a veteran in the struggle 
against communism," into the ranks of the respectable conservative causes of 
the time. 

Along with the dubious rationale of "the sacrifice of American young men in 
Vietnam, directed to the containment of communism and to the stoppage of 
Communist aggression in Asia, is the only bright point in the political position 
of the western powers," it urges that Taiwan be allowed to enter the Vietnam 
War and to invade the Chinese mainland. 

"The Legionary Movement salutes the patriotic reaction of these Christian 
and nationalistic forces of South America, which with the help of the armed 
forces, have restored law and order in those nations." The passage concludes 
that the movement "points out with admiration the role women have played 
in such events." 

6. Howard Blum, Wanted! (New York: Quadrangle/New York Times Book Com- 
pany, 1977), p. 134. 

Also, in the November/December 1979 issue of Tara Si Exilul (The Land and 
the Exiled), the magazine of the Legionary movement published in Madrid, 
Ciuntu's prominence is noted: 

"In St. Nicholas Church in Detroit, Father Dumitru Mihaescu celebrated the 
memorial service for the Captain [Codreanu] after which they remembered the 
events when the highest Romanian of all time was killed. . . . Under the lead- 
ership of Chirila Ciuntu, the Legionnaires from Windsor, Detroit and other cen- 
ters had a commemorative meeting which evoked the deeds of the Captain and 
his great sacrifice in the service of the nation and God." 

The presiding priest, Dumitru Mihaescu, was another Iron Guard leader who 
participated in the January 1941 massacre. Trifa had arranged to have Mihaescu 
brought from his Argentine exile to the United States to serve as a priest. 

7. The OUN/B was also assisted in their rise to post-war prominence by Josef Sta- 
lin's demands that Soviet subjects found in American and British Displaced Per- 
sons camps be returned to the Soviet Union. All those affected knew that to 
return to the Soviet Union would almost certainly mean death, especially if the 
Soviet authorities had suspicions of one's collaboration with the Nazis. Eastern 
Ukrainians, those from Soviet regions, were slated to be sent back while the 
Western Ukrainians, Bandera and Stetsko's followers, were exempt due to their 
Polish origin. Eastern Ukrainians would only be harbored and helped to escape 
the repatriation if they would accept the Bandera-Stetsko leadership. 

8. David W. Nussbaum, New York Post, November 21, 1948. 

9. The chief American protector of all the Eastern European Nazi collaborators was 
Frank G. Wisner, head of the State Department's secret Office of Policy Coor- 



195 



dination, who openly bragged about his role in concealing OUN members from 
war crimes investigators. 

"Luckily," he wrote the Immigration and Naturalization Service in 1 95 1 , "the 
attempt to locate these anti-Soviet Ukrainians was sabotaged by a few f arsighted 
Americans who warned the persons concerned to go into hiding." 

After protecting them from prosecution for war crimes, Wisner smuggled 
many OUN members, along with hundreds of other Eastern European Nazi col- 
laborators, into the United States. 

"In wartime," he wrote in defense of his actions, "a highly nationalistic Ukrai- 
nian political group with its own security service could conceivably be a great 
asset. Alienating such a group could, on the other hand, have no particular ad- 
vantage to the United States either now or in wartime." 

Wisner later committed suicide. 

10. Thomas O'Toole, The Washington Post, November 8, 1982; p. A-3. 

11. ABN Correspondence (New York: March-April 1983), pp. 29-30. 

12. Jack Anderson, The Washington Merry-Co-Round, April 19, 1985. 

13. ABN Correspondence (New York: September-October, 1983). 

14. Those who did get into Austria had a friend. Father Vilim Cecelja, who had 
served as a military chaplain and performed absolution for Ustashi forces during 
the height of the massacres of Serbs and Jews, had been transferred to Austria in 
1944. He was in place when the Ustashi began slipping across the border in 1945, 
in the meantime taking it upon himself to found the Croatian Red Cross, with- 
out affiliation or approval of the International Red Cross. 

At the end of the war, the International Red Cross, wanting to keep the Ser- 
bian and Croatian refugees apart to avoid strife, gave Cecelja interim permission 
to continue running his camp under their protection until a new organization 
could be formed. With this stamp of approval, Cecelja was not only able to re- 
ceive medical and food supplies from the parent organization but also had the 
authority to dispense International Red Cross identity cards. It can be assumed 
that many Ustashi were able to change their identities and continue their jour- 
neys to safety through the good offices of Father Cecelja. 

15. "Organization for clandestine departure from Italy and entry into Argentine of 
Croat (Yugoslav) War Criminals— 'Ustaschi'." (Attachment to Vincent La Vista 
report to State Department from unnamed agent in Buenos Aires, July 16, 1946). 

16. Archbishop Saric, who had declared that Almighty God was behind the move- 
ment "for freeing the world from the Jews," escaped to Spain and lived there 
until his death in 1960. Vjekoslav (Maks) Luburic, the Ustashi who had been in 
charge of Croatian concentration camps, escaped to Hungary, Austria, France, 
and, finally, to a Spanish monastery. Archbishop Stepinac, the "Father Confes- 
sor" of the Ustashi, was arrested by the Yugoslav government and sentenced to 
seventeen years in prison for war crimes. Portrayed as a victim of communist 
persecution, Pope Pius XII ordained him a cardinal and Cardinal Stepinac As- 
sociations, urging his release, were established in Croatian emigre communities 
throughout the world. I le was released after serving only a few years of his sen- 
tence. 



196 

17. Another example of Western indifference to locating fugitive Ustashis is the case 
of Andrija Artukovic. The Ustasha Minister of Interior, Artukovic oversaw the 
Croatian government's genocide policies and supervised its concentration camps. 
If measured by sheer numbers of victims, he is probably the most important war 
criminal still alive and unpunished today. 

Although captured by British authorities in Austria in 1945, Artukovic was 
released and eventually arrived in the United States in 1 948. The following year, 
his true identity was discovered and deportation proceedings begun against him. 
In response to the case an aide to Deputy Attorney General Peyton Ford wrote 
in 1 95 1 : " Altho [sic] it appears that deportation proceedings should be instituted, 
Artukovic and/or his family should not be sent to apparently certain death at the 
hands of the Yugoslavia Communists. Unless it can be established that he was 
responsible for the deaths of any Americans, I think that deportation should be 
to some non-communist country which willgive him asylum. In fact, if his only 
crime was against communists, I think he should be given asylum in the U.S." 

Under such protection, Artukovic lived freely and under his own name in Surf - 
side, California for the next thirty-three years. In November 1984, he was ar- 
rested and denied bail pending the outcome of a new deportation hearing. 

18. Stejpan Hefer, "Croats Condemned to Extermination in Yugoslavia," Our Al- 
ternative (Munich, West Germany: Press Bureau of the Anti-Bolshevik Bloc of 
Nations 1972), p. 51. 

19. On April 23, 1958, the Chicago newspaper Nasa Nada carried an article by Father 
Cuturic, a Croatian Catholic priest defending the "persecuted" Andrija Artu- 
kovic. 

"And what are they trying to do to one of our real leaders, Andrija Artukovic— 
Croatian and Catholic— who is being defended by the real champions of free- 
dom, justice, and truth against the godless Jews, Orthodox, communists, prot- 
estants everywhere? They call our leader, Andrija Artukovic a 'murderer.' No, 
we Ustashi must keep our dignity." 

20. 11th. WACL Conference Proceedings, April Z7-May 1978 (Washington: Council on 
American Affairs, 1978), resolution no. 22, pp. 89-90. 

FOUR 

1. George Kerr, Formosa Betrayed (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Houghton Mifflin, 
1965), pp. 292-93. 

2. Ira D. Hirschy, M.D. (chief medical officer, UNRRA, Taiwan) to Edward E. 
Paine (UNRRA reports officer). Quoted by Kerr, Formosa, pp. 305-6. 

3. Lieutenant General Albert C. Wedemeyer, U.S. Relations with China (Washing- 
ton: Division of Publications Office of Public Affairs, Department of State, 1949), 
p. 308. 

4. General Douglas MacArthur, "Military Situation in the Far East," Hearings Be- 
fore the Senate Committee on Armed Services and the Committee on Foreign 
Relations, 82nd Cong. 1st sess., 1951 (Washington: Congressional Record, 
1951), p. 23. 



197 



5 . Robert Boettcher, Gifts of Deceit (New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston, 1980), 
p. 16. 

6. David Rowe, The WACL What Should ACWF Do About It? (memorandum to 
American Council for World Freedom, October 23, 1970), pp. 6-7. 

7. Republic of China, Briefing on the Political Establishment in Government of Republic of 
China Forces (Taipei: Ministry of National Defense, 1957), p. 16. 

8. Joseph J. Heinlein, Jr., "Political Warfare: The Nationalist Chinese Model" 
(Ph.D. diss., American University, 1974), p. 578. 

9. Coauthor interview with former KMT official, January 1985. 
10. Heinlein, "Political Warfare," p. 535. 

FIVE 

1. Hanzawa Hiroshi, "Two Right- Wing Bosses: A Comparison of Sugiyama and 
Kodama,"y«^fl« Quarterly, (July-September 1976), vol. 23, p. 243. 

2. Quoted in Alec Dubro and David E. Kaplan, "Soft-Core Fascism," The Village 
Voice (New York: October 4, 1983). 

3. G-2 (Military Intelligence) Far East Command report to Colonel R. E. Rudisill, 
May 24, 1947. 

4. Quoted in Jim Hougan, Spooks (New York: Morrow, 1978), pp. 452-53. 

5. Dubro and Kaplan, "Fascism," p. 42. 

6. Robert Boettcher, Gifts of Deceit (New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston, 1980), 
pp. 33-34. 

7. David Silverberg, "Heavenly Deception," Present Tense, vol. 4 (Autumn 1976), 
p. 53. 

8. Boettcher, Gifts, pp. 39-40. 

9. Ibid., p. 38. 

10. Ibid., p. 46. 

11. Sasakawa and Kodama may have had another reason for their alliance with 
Moon. Since the end of World War II, Japan has had extremely strict gun-con- 
trol laws, and weapons for the yakuza gangs have had to be smuggled in one by 
one. Under the Korean government's patronage, the Unification Church owned 
and operated Tong-il Industries. Tong-il is a weapons manufacturer that makes 
rifles and components for M-16 assault rifles. It also operates the Yewha Air Gun 
Company in Kyonggi-Do, Korea. 

In 1975, seven years after the Yamanashi conference, the Japanese importer 
of air rifles from Korea was a shadow company, Angus Arms Company, which 
was not registered or in any corporate directory. The rifles, according to political 
analyst Pharris Harvey in a memorandum to the House Subcommittee on Inter- 
national Relations in May 1978, "are sold, exclusively it seems to members of 
Shokyo Rengo and UC [Unification Church]." 

12. Pharris Harvey, memorandum to House Subcommittee on International Rela- 
tions, May 2-1, 197Q. 

13. Robert Llndscy, Ilie N<w York Times, January 25, 1985, p. A 16. 



298 



SIX 

1. Stefan Possony, The 1971-75 Leadership of WACL (memorandum to American 
Council for World Freedom, 1973). 

2. Ibid. 

3. "Maurice Pinay," Complotto contro la Chiesa (Rome: N.P. 1962), p. 697. 

4. Interview with coauthor, Washington, D.C., February 1985. 

5. Politka (Mexico: February 15, 1964), p. 28. 

6. Possony, WACL. 

7. Jose Lucio de Araujo Correa, Some Data and Obsavations about the Mexican Orga- 
nization of the Tecos (Sao Paulo, Brazil: Tradition, Family and Property, 1975). 

8. Possony, WACL. 

9. In their campaign to be the pre-eminent voice of fascism in South America, the 
Tecos ran into a confrontation with another right-wing political movement, 
Tradition, Family and Property (TFP). Based in Brazil and dating back to the 
1930s, TFP is a Catholic order that represents the wealthiest classes and seeks 
to defend private ownership and the supreme sanctity of the family unit, and to 
resist liberal influences within the Church. "We simply do not feel," a TFP of- 
ficial told one of the authors, "that the twentieth century is necessarily the best 
time in which to live." 

"The organization is an object of controversy in Sao Paulo," Joseph Becelia, 
first secretary of the American Embassy in Brazil, wrote about TFP in a letter 
of March 1979, "and has been featured in several television and newspaper re- 
ports that focused on its allegedly extremist nature. There have also been alle- 
gations of TFP involvement in acts of right-wing terrorism, though they are 
unproven. The group does, on the other hand, reportedly have a paramilitary 
unit whose members receive weapons and 'anti-guerrilla' training." 

While the charges against TFP to which Becelia alluded have been proven to 
be exaggerations, they illustrate the point that it was hardly an organization that 
could be considered leftist or "Jewish-inspired" in any way. 

But not to the Tecos. In 1974, Replica launched a scathing attack on TFP, in- 
cluding carrying a cover showing a pig bearing the name of TFP's chairman and 
calling him a Jew. 

10. Among the correspondents of Replica are Jorge Prieto Laurens, Rafael Rodriguez, 
Raimundo Guerrero, and Rene Capistran Garza, all Tecos who have attended 
League conferences. Among its international periodical affiliates were WACL 
Bulletin (Korea), Aginter Press (Portugal), and Fuerza Nueva (Spain), the last being 
the newspaper of the Spanish neo-fascist party of the same name. 

A Mexican academic expert on his nation's extreme right claims that Replica 
receives much of its funding from the so-called historical revisionists in the United 
States, who claim that the Holocaust is a Jewish-perpetrated myth. Thomas Ser- 
pico, for example, owner of the Christian Book Club in Hawthorne, California, 
an outlet for historical revisionist writings, was reportedly the English translator 
and a financier of the Complot. 

11. Telephone interview by Dale Van Atta, Washington, D.C., October 1984; 
quoted in Jack Anderson, Washington Merry-Co-Round, November 26, 1984. 



199 



SEVEN 

1. Alan Crawford, Thunder on the Right (New York: Pantheon Books, 1980), p. 66. 

2. A bewildering number of conservative leaders passed through the American 
Council for World Freedom, with the result that its officers frequently changed 
from year to year. Not all those noted were members when ACWF was created, 
but all were members at some point between 1970 and 1974. 

3. David N. Rowe, 77k WACL What Should ACWF Do About It? (memorandum to 
American Council for World Freedom, 23 October 1970), p. 4. 

Writing about Ku, Rowe charged that "he has absolutely no standing in the 
more respectable intellectual circles; everyone in Taipei [capital of Taiwan] con- 
siders him a hopeless anachronism and a bad joke." 

To Rowe, the League was nothing more than an instrument for Ku to gain 
prestige in Taiwan; he warned that "those who merely stand aside and tolerate 
such developments in WACL, on the dubious basis that we cannot well insist 
upon reforming it, must bear the burden of the consequences of their acts." 

4. Stefan Possony, 77k 1 97Z-i Leadership of WACL (memorandum to the American 
Council for World Freedom, 1973). 

5. Ku Cheng-kang, the honorary League chairman from Taiwan, had been 
granted a visa to attend the London meeting of the League executive board in 
March, provided he refrained from political activities; this was a considerable 
courtesy since Britain had dropped recognition of Taiwan in favor of main- 
land China. Instead, Ku used the forum to launch an attack on the Peking 
regime, causing the British government to deny his visa for the full confer- 
ence in August. 

6. Dr. Bastolme Puiggros to Geoffrey Stewart-Smith, July 31, 1973. 

7. Thomas A. Lane to Geoffrey Stewart-Smith, January 14, 1974. 

8. Ibid. 

9. Replica, no. 57 (Guadalajara, Mexico: April 1974). 

10. Ibid. 

11. Even non-League organizations, such as the neo-Nazi Christian Vanguard, joined 
the assault: "In 1974, the Jew-controlled ACWF hosted the WACL meeting in 
Washington, DC. Schwarz, Wurmbrand, Judd and their friends introduced pro- 
Zionist, pro-Jewish proposals to the conference— and the Asian and South 
American bloc united to beat them at every turn. 

"Thanks to the gallant work of patriots from South America, most of the Asian 
delegates to the WACL are now informed and recognize the Jewish influence 
behind Communism. 

"The Jews are particularly worried when they see an international movement 
made up of people of many races and religions, all united in opposition to the 
two ends of the Jewish serpent, Zionism and Communism. Now, along with 
the peoples of South America, Europe and Asia, patriots from all over America 
are striving to work together in ridding our country of the Jews and their power 
structure. 

"We have no alternative, we International patriots— no alternative but to strive 
boldly for final victory. To mnke anything less than the full, International effort 



300 



is to continue our downward spiral into racial and national oblivion. Let the 
grand old slogan ring out once more, with feeling: THIS TIME, THE WORLD!" 
Christian Vanguard (Hollywood, California), November 1974. 

12. Lionel Van Deerlin, Hearings Before the Subcommittee on Consumer Protection and Fi- 
nanceofthe Committee on Interstate and Foreign Commerce, 94th Cong., 1st sess., 20- 
22 May 1975 (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1975), p. 
129. 

13. Conservative columnist James J. Kilpatrick's description of the AIP on August 
26, 1976, in The Washington Star as "gun nuts, food nuts, single-taxers, anti-fluor- 
idationists, and a hundred passionate fellows who write in capital letters with 
red typewriter ribbons" apparently did not dissuade the New Rightist power- 
seekers. 

"As the convention's keynote speaker held forth," Alan Crawford wrote 
(Thunder, pp. 236-37), "to thunderous applause, on the dangers of 'atheistical 
political Zionism' ('the most insidious, far-reaching murderous force the world 
has ever known'), Viguerie and his operatives moved briskly among the far-right 
delegates in their polyester leisure suits, passing out expensively printed cam- 
paign literature." 

EIGHT 

1. President Ronald Reagan to Roger Pearson, April 14, 1982. 

2. Roger Pearson, Eugenics and Race (London: St. Clair Press, 1959), p. 38. 

3. Association of Nordic War and Military Veterans, The Blue Document (Stock- 
holm, Sweden: 1979), p. 4. 

4. Ibid., p. 4. 

5. Ibid., p. 6. 

6. "Anatomy of a Movement," World Press Review, December 1980, p. 39; ex- 
cerpted in Der Spiegel (October 6, 1980). 

7. Quoted in Blue Document, p. 13. 

8. Ibid., p. 26. 

9. Erik Blucher, memorandum to members of Norsk Front Riksrad (National 
Council) (Oslo, Norway), 20 May 1979. 

10. Coauthor interview with Roger Pearson in Washington, DC, injanuary 1984. 

NINE 

1. 11th. WACL Conference Proceedings; April Z7-May 1978 (Washington: Council on 
American Affairs, 1978)), pp. 13-15. - 

2. "The Impossible Equation," Hoy, (Asuncion, Paraguay: June 9, 1978), p. 11. 

3 . Stejpan Hefer, "Croats Condemned to Extermination in Yugoslavia," Our Al- 
ternative (Munich, West Germany: Press Bureau of Anti-Bolshevik Bloc of Na- 
tions, 1972), p. 51. 

4. Joint Communique of World Anti-Communist League, 10th. Pre-Conference Executive 
Board Meeting (Houston, Texas: January 10, 1977). 



301 



5. Horia Sima, quoted in Maurizio Cabona, A n Interview with Horia Sima, Commander- 
in-Chief Legion of the Archangel Michael (N.P. 1977), p. 22. 

6. Hernan Landivar Flores to the World Anti-Communist League, February 2, 
1974. 

7. Vittorfranco S. Pisano, "Interview with Giorgio Almirante, Member of Parlia- 
ment and Secretary of the Italian Social Movement (MSI)/' TVI Journal (1980), 
p. 3. 

8. Resolution of 1 1th. Asian People's Anti-Communist League conference (Taipei, 
Taiwan: 1965). 

9. Stejpan Hefer, "Croats," p. 52. 

10. Claire Sterling, "The Plot to Murder the Pope," Reader's Digest (September 1 982), 
p. 75. 

11. Christoper C. Harmon, "Terrorism: The Evidence of Collusion Between the 
Red and the Black," Grand Strategy— Countercunents (Claremont, California: De- 
cember 15, 1982), p. 6. 

12. Horia Sima, The Rumanian Situation After 19 years of Communist Slavery and Policies 
of the Western Powers, 1944-1963 (Madrid, Spain: The Movement, 1963), pp. 18- 
19. 

Part II 
Introduction 

1 . Evolution of Terrorist Delinquency (Buenos Aires: Government of the Republic of Ar- 
gentine, Ministry of Information, 1980), p. 1. 

TEN 

1. Ann Nelson, "God, Man and the Reverend Moon," The Nation (March 31, 1979), 
pp. 327-28. 

2. Advertisement forthe Unification Church, The Washington Post, January 1, 1979. 

3. Johnson Burgess and Michael Isikoff , "Moon's Japanese Profits Bolster Efforts 
in U.S.," The Washington Post (September 16, 1984), p. A20. 

4. It's interesting to note the similarity of the missions of Moon and of retired Ma- 
jor General John K. Singlaub, the current world chairman of the World Anti- 
Communist League, who has attended at least one Moon-sponsored seminar. 
Two basic Moon goals are the continuation of South Korea's unrestricted access 
to American military hardware and the countering of any moves to withdraw 
American troops from South Korea. 

When President Carter announced plans to scale back the U.S. military mis- 
sion in South Korea, General Singlaub, commander of U.S. ground forces in Ko- 
rea at the time, publicly opposed the policy. Singlaub was forced to resign in 
1978. 

5. Also on the board of the U.S. Global Strategy Council are William Colby, for- 
mer CIA director; Admiral Thomas Moorer (ret.), former chairman of the Joint 
Chiefs of Staff And member of the board of Western Goals; and at least three 
members— l.cv nobrlnrwky, Daniel Graham, and Anthony Kubek— of the cur- 



302 



rent American chapter of the World Anti-Communist League. The council's real 
or imagined influence on U.S. foreign policy cannot be determined. 

Woellner was promoted to president of CAUSA World Services in January 
1985 after having been president of CAUSA USA. His successor at CAUSA USA 
is Phillip Sanchez, former U.S. ambassador to Honduras and Colombia and as- 
sociate publisher of Moon's News World Communications, Inc. 

6. Mike Murphy interviewed by coauthor, Washington, D.C., June 1984. 

7. This charge is lent some credence by the February 1985 edition of Le Monde Di- 
plomatique in Paris, in which reporters Jean-Francois Boyer and Alejandro Alem 
charged that Moon (and the W ACL) had a role in the coup that brought cocaine- 
kingpin General Garcia Meza to power: "North American renegades from the 
Unification Church have several times declared that Moon had privately an- 
nounced General Garcia Meza's coup d'etat a month in advance. . . . 

"Alfredo Mingolla, an Argentine secret service agent imprisoned in La Paz 
[capital of Bolivia] by President Suazo in 1983, told the magazine Der Stern in 
1984 that Thomas Ward (a member of the board of CAUSA International) 
had a direct hand in organizing the coup d'etat of July 17, 1980. He said Ward 
had worked with the boss of the World Anti-Communist League's Bolivian 
branch, and in particular with Klaus Barbie, who at the time was helping in 
the preparations with Colonel Luis Arce Gomez. In 1984, confirming infor- 
mation coming from Moonie defectors from New York and the Bolivian In- 
terior Ministry revealed that Moon and CAUSA offered $4 million to the 
1980 putschists." 

ELEVEN 

1. Joseph J. Heinlein, Jr., "Political Warfare: The Nationalist Chinese Model," 
Ph.D. Dissertation, American University, 1974, pp. 530-31. 

2. Representative James Leach to U.S. Attorney General William French Smith, 
August 6, 1981. 

3. Heinlein, "Political Warfare," p. 530. 

4. Among the Taiwanese who received training at the Political Warfare Cadres 
Academy was Chen Chi-li, a leader of the Bamboo Union, Taiwan's most pow- 
erful underworld gang. In 1985, Chen Chi-li confessed to the murder of David 
Liu in California and was sentenced to life in prison. 

5. Laurie Becklund, The Los Angeles Times, December 18, 1983. 

6. Latin American former vice-president to coauthor in a nonattributable interview 
in Washington, D.C., March 1985. 

7. Robert White, statement before the House Subcommittee on Western Hemi- 
spheric Affairs, February 2, 1984. 

TWELVE 

1. Colonel Roberto Eulalio Santivanez interview with coauthor in Washington, 
D.C., March 1985. 



303 



2. Jean-Francois Boyer and Alejandro Alem, Le Monde Diplomatique (Paris: February 
1985). 

3. Jack Anderson, "Six South American Regimes Run Hit-Man Rings in Foreign 
Lands," Washington Merry-Go-Round, August 2, 1 979. 

4. 11th. WACL Conference Proceedings; April 17-May 1978 (Washington: Council on 
American Affairs, 1978), p. 13. 

5. Horia Sima, interviewed by Maurizio Cabona, An Interview with Horia Sima, Com- 
mander-in-Chief Legion of the Archangel Michael (N.P., 1977), p. 2. 

6. Penny Lernoux, Cry of the People (New York: Doubleday & Co., 1980), pp. 143- 
44. 

7. Resolution no. 40, introduced by the Paraguayan chapter of the World Anti- 
Communist League, 11th. WACL Conference Proceedings, pp. 110-11. 

8. Fiii Daciei vol. 43, no. 3, (New York: July-September 1980), p. 6. 

9. Evolution of Terrorist Delinquency (Buenos Aires: Government of the Republic of Ar- 
gentina, Ministry of Information, 1980), p. 12. 

10. Despite the denial by both the Argentine and Salvadoran governments of the 
presence in El Salvador of Argentine advisers, this assistance was no secret. 
When Colonel Rafael Flores Lima, chiefofstaffofEI Salvador's armed forces, 
went to Buenos Aires in February 1982, he was warmly received by General 
Antonio Vaquero, the Argentine army chief of staff. At an awards ceremony, 
Vaquero opined: "I would like to express here that the strengthening and 
consolidation of the relations now linking our armies have great importance. 

"The Argentine Army— which along with the Navy and the Air Force, sup- 
ported by the Argentine nation, defeated terrorism— understands and values the 
struggle of the Salvadoran Armed Forces and people and will provide its assist- 
ance, as much as feasible, to a friendly nation in a difficult situation, but unal- 
terably maintaining the principle of noninteivention in its internal affairs. This 
is so because two concepts of ways of life are at stake: a way of life we want for 
ourselves, our children and our children's children; on one hand, respect for the 
dignity of mankind— God's creations— and on the other, terrorism, men at the 
service of an athiestic, omnipotent state." Noticias Argentinas (Buenos Aires: Feb- 
ruary 24, 1 982). 

1 1 . Telephone interview by coauthor with Major General John K. Singlaub (ret.), 
February 13, 1985. 

THIRTEEN 

1. Operation Phoenix resulted in the deaths of approximately twenty thousand 
Vietnamese, most of them civilians, including many women and children, be- 
fore it was halted. Contrary to what some have written, Phoenix was conducted 
not by American troops but by units of the South Vietnam police under the co- 
ordination of American officers. As most of the Americans involved were based 
in Saigon, their supervision and control of Phoenix was mostly theoretical. The 
fact that the Phoenix operatives were given a monthly quota of Viet Cong to 
neutralize by American military advisers was largely responsible for the gross 
abuses that occurred. 



304 



2 . Telephone interview b y coauthor with Major General John Singlaub (ret.), April 
4, 1985. 

3. Ibid. 

4. Western Coals— Annual Re fort 1981/198Z (Alexandria, Virginia: Western Goals, 
1982), p. 12. 

5. The Los Angeles Public Disorder Intelligence Division was not, however, the 
only source of material for Western Goals. According to reporter David Lin- 
dorff, The Nation, (May 5, 1984), p. 539): "It appears, from testimony in the Jay 
Paul case, that Western Goals also got information from private corporations 
such as Exxon and Security Pacific Bank." 

FOURTEEN 

1. Francis Pisani, Le Monde (Paris: January 23-25, 1982); reprinted by World Press 
Review, March 1983, p. 27. 

2. Allan Nairn, "Controversial Reagan Campaign Links With Guatemalan Gov- 
ernment and Private Sector Leaders," research memorandum to Council on 
Hemispheric Affairs (Washington, October 30, 1980), p. 3. 

3. El Impartial (Guatemala City: July 13, 1954). 

4. American diplomat to coauthor in not-for-attribute interview in Guatemala City, 
Guatemala, April 1985. 

5. Luis Martinez Montt to coauthor in interview, Guatemala City, Guatemala, 
March 1985. 

6. Francisco Villagran-Kramer to coauthor in interview, Washington, DC, March 
1985. 

7. General Gordon Sumner (ret.) in telephone interview with Allan Nairn, August 
23, 1980. 

8. Allan Nairn, "Controversial Reagan Campaign," pp. 8-9. 

9. Ibid., p. 8. 

10. For details on the early involvement of the American New Right with the Gua- 
temalan right, we are indebted to the extensive research of Allan Nairn. 

According to Nairn in his research memorandum to the Council on Hemi- 
spheric Affairs (note 2 above), Alejos shared the suspicions of Generals Singlaub 
and Graham about the U.S. government: "Most of the elements in the State 
Department are probably pro-Communist. They're using human rights as an 
argument to promote the socialization of these areas. We've gotten to the point 
now where we fear the State Department more than we fear communist infiltra- 
tion. Either Mr. Carter is a totally incapable President or he is definitely a pro- 
Communist element." (p. 5) 

Nairn also reports that Alejos met personally with Reagan in California in early 
1 980 and immediately knew he had found his man. "Mr. Reagan was in favor 
of human rights as much as we were. We found in Mr. Reagan a more respon- 
sible attitude from a country that will work with us on a basis of respect. ... I 
have personal respect and great admiration for Mr. Reagan. I think your country 
needs him." (p. 10) 



305 



11. Frances's testimony, a videotape believed to have been made in Managua, 
was shown in Mexico City in August 1982. Not mentioning his alleged ab- 
duction, Frances claimed that his reason for breaking silence was anger over 
U.S. support for Great Britain during the Falklands War against Argentina. 
His current whereabouts are unknown, but there are unconfirmed reports that 
he was killed in Nicaragua. Various aspects of his testimony have been cor- 
roborated by numerous sources in Central America and the United States. 

12. J. Michael Luhan, "Guatemala: How Genuine a Coup?" Washington Report on the 
Hemisphere (Council on Hemispheric Affairs, Washington, D.C.), vol. 2, no. 14, 
April 6, 1982, p. 4. 

13. Deborah Huntington, "The Prophet Motive," North American Congress on Latin 
America, vol. 28, no. 1, January-February 1984, p. 32. 

14. One night in late 1 982, one of the authors was negotiating with a group of taxi 
drivers in Guatemala City when machine-gun fire was heard on a nearby side 
street. Ignoring the admonishments of the drivers, who all bowed their heads, 
the coauthor watched as a patrol Jeep pulled out of the side street and careened 
past. The two men in the Jeep looked at the author watching them as they 
passed. 

The next day, the coauthor's taxi to the airport was cut off by a white 
Mercedes. A passenger climbed out, pulled a large revolver from his waistband, 
and approached the taxi. Coming to the rear window, the gunman peered in at 
the coauthor before finally putting his gun away. 

"Probably a thief," the cab driver explained without a trace of conviction as 
they drove on to the airport. 

"Ah, that would be the MLN," an intelligence operative explained when the 
story was recounted. "They like to kill in traffic. They must have mistaken you 
for someone else." 

15. Rios Montt in television interview with Jon Lee Anderson, Jack Anderson Con- 
fidential (Metromedia TV), November 27, 1982. 

16. Ibid. 

17. Joanne Omang, "Moon's 'Cause' Takes Aim at Communism in Americas," The 
Washington Post (August 28, 1983) p. A17. 

18. WerBell ostensibly limited his activities to training "people from anti-com- 
munist governments or groups" in defensive security techniques, such as eva- 
sive driving and the use of small firearms. Although he did conduct such 
courses with his staff of former Special Forces officers, mercenaries, and Vi- 
etnamese operatives, "The Dwarf" also ran a flourishing mercenary-f or-hire 
business on the side. His team members, who went on missions for him to 
the Congo, Thailand, Rhodesia, Chile, Argentina, EI Salvador, and Guate- 
mala, have sworn themselves to secrecy as to the inner workings of Wer- 
Bell's covert empire. 

Before his death, however, WerBell andoneofhis closest lieutenants admitted 
to one of the authors that many of their "jobs" were CIA subcontracts, such as 
their involvement in the CIA Bay of Pigs operation against Cuban dictator Fidel 
Castro. WerBell mntle many 6f his Guatemalan contacts during the early 1 960s, 



306 



when he was there secretly training the Cuban exile force; Guatemala was one 
of the key launching points for the doomed 1961 operation. 
19. Loren Jenkins, The Washington Post, (December 26, 1984), p. A31. 

FIFTEEN 

1 . U.S. State Department official to author in not-f or-attribute interview, American 
Embassy, San Salvador, El Salvador, March 1 984. 

2. Although the authenticity of some aspects of his charges have been confirmed 
by various American officials, Santivanez is certainly not the humanitarian that 
he tried to portray himself as being. As Allan Nairn states in "Behind the Death 
Squads" (Progressive, May 1984): 

"In fact, Santivanez was the director of ANSESAL and [Roberto] D"Au- 
buisson's immediate superior from 1977 to 1979, a period of mounting gov- 
ernment repression that culminated in the fall of the Carlos Humberto 
Romero government and the abolition of ANSESAL for its role in the Death 
Squad killings. 

"Santivanez was 'Romero's black man', says the U.S. Embassy official who 
studied the Death Squads. 'He kept the files and took care of people when there 
was dirty work to be done. His hands are as bloody as anybody's.' " 

Santivanez has also been criticized for having been paid some fifty thousand 
dollars in living expenses by opponents of U.S. policy in El Salvador. 

3. Roberto D Aubuisson, to reporter Edith Coron, San Salvador, El Salvador, March 
1985. 

4. Laurie Becklund, "Death Squads: Deadly 'Other War,' " The Los Angeles Times 
(December 18, 1983), p. 28. 

5. The White Warriors' Union first achieved notoriety in 1977 in a campaign 
directed against liberal priests: "The 'unknown hand' responsible for the 
death of priests can be confidently identified as that of the UGB, which by 
June [1977] was issuing the slogan 'Be Patriotic— Kill a Priest'. On 21 June 
the UGB presented to the press its 'War Bulletin No. 6', in which it accused 
46 Jesuits of 'terrorism' and gave them until 20 July to leave the country; after 
that date their execution would be 'immediate and systematic'." James 
Dunkerly, The Long War: Dictatorship 1 and Revolution in El Salvador (London: 
Junction Books, 1982), p. 109. 

6. Roberto Eulalio Santivanez, "Inside the Death Squads," news release by Fenton 
Communications (New York) from closed-circuit interview, March 21, 1985; 

7. Christopher Dickey, "The Truth About the Death Squads," The New Republic, 
(December 26, 1983), p. 18. 

8. Statement of former U.S. Ambassador to EI Salvador Robert White to House 
Subcommittee on Western Hemispheric Affairs, (February 2, 1 984), p. 7. 

9. Dunkerly, The Long War, p. 254. 

10. Craig Pyes, "D'Aubuisson's Fledgling Party Finds a Mentor in Guatemala," The 
Albuquerque Journal, (Decembei 18, 1983). 

11. Santivanez, "Inside the Death Squads," pp. 5-7. 



307 



12. Laurie Becklund, "Death Squad Members Tell Theij Stories/' The Los Angeles 
Times, (December 19, 1983). 

13. Pyes, "Fledgling Party." 

14. "A Roberto D'Aubuisson Chronology," (Washington, D.C.: Washington Of- 
fice on Latin America, March 1981.) 

15. Becklund, "Deadly 'Other War/ " p. 30. 

16. Quoted in Proceso, El Salvador Catholic University weekly news summary, no. 
13, September 1-7, 1980, pp. 13-14. 

17. Ibid. 

18. Francisco "Chachi" Guerrero to coauthor in interview, San Salvador, El Salva- 
dor, March 1985. 

19. Roberto Eulalio Santivanez to author in interview, Washington, D.C., March 
1985. 

20. The principal author of the White Paper was retired Lieutenant General Daniel 
O. Graham, who before the end of the year would join the World Anti-Commu- 
nist League. In 1 980, Graham had met in Miami with D'Aubuisson and a covey 
of wealthy Salvadoran exiles, the future backers of ARENA. According to re- 
porter Craig Pyes: 

"During the conversation, a number of Salvadorans present remembered Gra- 
ham asking D'Aubuisson if he could find proof that the Salvadoran guerrillas 
were being manipulated by outside forces, because the incoming Reagan Ad- 
ministration believed proof of such manipulation was what was needed to 'in- 
fluence American public opinion ... to increase military and economic support 
for El Salvador.' " 

D'Aubuisson found the "proof," documents that have since been proven to 
be forgeries, though not in time to prevent the White Paper from being used by 
the new American Administration as a pretext for increased involvement in El 
Salvador. 

21. Pyes, "Fledgling Party." 

22. President Alvaro Magana to authors, San Salvador, EI Salvador, May 1984. 

23. Marc Cooper and Greg Goldin, Playboy (November 1984), p. 72. 



SIXTEEN 

1. Almendares Bonilla to coauthor, Tegucigalpa, Honduras, April 1985. 

2. U Tnbuna (Tegucigalpa: August 12, 1980). 

3. U.S. Embassy official to author in not-for-attribute interview, Tegucigala, Hon- 
duras, February 1985. 

4. If the sudden support for a guerrilla movement in Central America was confus- 
ing to the American public, it apparently was also to the Administration. At a 
press conference in February 1982, Reagan was asked if he approved of covert 
assistance to destabilize Nicaragua. "Well, no, we're supporting them, the— oh, 
wait a minute, wait a minute, I'm sorry, I was thinking EI Salvador, because of 
the previous, when you said Nicaragua. Here again, this is something upon 
which with national security Interests, I just— I will not comment." 



308 



5. Chris Dickey, "Honduran Generals Ouster Surprised CIA/' The Washington Post, 
(December 16, 1984), p. A27. 

6. Today Torres Arias lives in hiding in the United States. Two months after his 
denunciation of Alvarez, the State Department, in a move that it said had "no 
connection," revoked Torres Arias's multiple-entry visa into the United States. 
The former intelligence chief then asked for political asylum, placing the Reagan 
Administration in a difficult position. 

"The same State Department," The Washington Post noted on October 1 6, 1982, 
"that cancelled his visa for suspected criminal activity, now is responsible for 
judging, under federal asylum statutes, his claim that the United States should 
protect him against the United States' own ally." 

7. "Human Rights in Honduras: Signs of the Argentine Method," Americas Watch 
(New York: 1982). 

8. In the Choluteca area of Honduras, the region along the Pacific coast Gulf of 
Fonseca that divides EI Salvador and Nicaragua, the contras operate several base 
camps. This samearea, which is believed to be the main Sandinista arms-supply 
route, has also been the scene of several unexplained murders and disappear- 
ances. Western diplomats involved in the U.S. -funded Honduran military arms- 
interdiction program admitted that several captured suspects disappeared while 
in custody of the Honduran authorities. It is a rather open secret that these sus- 
pects were handed over to the contras; according to several Honduran military 
officers, Nicaraguan ex-Major Lau is the zone's principal contra commander. His 
role in the violence has won him the nickname "The Beast of Choluteca." Sur- 
vivors of kidnappings and witnesses to the region's murders have also identified 
contras as the perpetrators. 

In a press conference in Washington on March 21, 1985, Roberto Santivanez, 
the former director of El Salvador's ANSESAL, charged that Lau was also in- 
volved in the murder of Archbishop Romero in March 1980. According to San- 
tivanez, the decision to kill Romero was made by Salvadoran exiles in Miami, 
was passed along to Roberto D'Aubuisson, and was carried out by two former 
Nicaraguan National Guardsmen. Lau, Santivanez added, was an important 
trainer for the death squads and was paid $120,000 for Romero's death. This 
account of the archbishop's death conflicts with that of former Ambassador 
Robert White. 

Lau was the first intelligence chief of the FDN when it was founded in 1981, 
but he was officially ousted in a CIA-ordered shakeup in September 1982. 

9. Lucy Komisar, "The Case of Honduras," The New Republic, (August 15 and 22, 
1983), p. 18. 

10. Ulloa Duarte to coauthor, Tegucigalpa, Honduras, March 1985. 

11. Komisar, "Honduras," p. 18. 

12. Peng Yu, ambassador of the Republic of China to Honduras; to coauthor, Te- 
gucigalpa, Honduras, March 1984. 

13. Though unconfirmed, there are intriguing reports that this office, nonexistent 
before Suazo Cordova's election, was established with the help and financial as- 
sistance of the ever-present Colonel Bo Hi Pak. Santamaria spoke at the Febru- 
ary 1985 Paris conference of the CAUSA offshoot, the International Security 



309 



Council, and attended the first annual CAUSA USA national convention in San 
Francisco in March 1985. 

14. Dickey, "Honduran Generals." 

15. Adolfo Calero to 77a; Washington Post, (April 7, 1985), Outlook-1 1. 

16. Fred Hiatt, "Private Groups Press 'Contra Aid,' " 77k Washington Post, (December 
10, 1984), p. Al. 

17. Although it is the most controversial, aid for the contras in Central America is 
not the only private aid program the USCWF has undertaken. According to 
Singlaub, they are also active in "Project Boots," working with the AFL-CIO 
and the Committee for Free Afghanistan to supply Afghan refugees from the 
Soviet invasion with used boots. They are also assisting in relief aid to Cam- 
bodian refugees and, although not yet sending direct aid to African resistance 
groups, are helping to "raise consciousness." 

18. John Dillon and Jon Lee Anderson, "Who's Behind the Aid to the Contras," 77!e 
Nation (October 6, 1984), pp. 318-19. 

19. Hiatt, "Private Groups." 

20. Dillon and Anderson, "Who's Behind," p. 318. 

21. Peter Stone, "Private Groups Step Up Aid to 'Contras,' " 77!c Washington Post, 
(May 3, 1985), p. A22. 

22. As Times editor Amaud de Borchgrave told 77ie Washington Post, "Peopleask, how 
can the paper afford to do this when it isn't making money? The answer is that, 
on important moral issues, our corporate owners [Unification Church] are will- 
ing to lend extraordinary assistance." The Washington Post, (May 7, 1985), p. E4. 

23. Dillon and Anderson, "Who's Behind," p. 319. 

24. Joanne Omang, "Helms Says U.S. Agencies Betray Reagan's Latin Policy," The 
Washington Post (March 30, 1985), p. A14. 

25. Michael Getler, "Hondurans Uneasy over U.S. Military," 77i£ Washington Post, 
(April 7, 1985), A16. 



SEVENTEEN 

1. Shirley Christian, "Caiewom Costa Rica," 77a; NewRepublic (December 6, 1982), 
p. 20. 

2. As mentioned in note 1 1 for Chapter 16, Hector Frances was reportedly kid- 
napped off the streets of Tegucigalpa in 1 982. His testimony, allegedly spurred 
by U.S. support for Great Britain during the Falklands/Malvinas war, appeared 
on a videotape in Mexico City in August 1 982. Though Frances was reportedly 
assassinated in Managua, Nicaragua, in 1984, those aspects of his testimony that 
we have quoted have been corroborated by other sources in the United States 
and Central America. 

3. "This U.S. money," Frances said, "is reflected in the running of various camps, 
the arming of thousands of men, the feeding and arming of them, the salaries 
and economic assists paid to those who lead this counterrevolution, the salaries 
of Argentine military advisors who, as in my case, got between $2,500 and 
$3,000." 



310 



4. The Phoenix, a mythical bird that rises from the ashes, is a particularly popular 
code name among counterinsurgency specialists and terrorists and has been used 
throughout the world. The "Phoenix" that Jones referred to was the U.S. -spon- 
sored counterterror operation in Vietnam in the 1 960s that claimed an estimated 
twenty thousand lives, most of them civilians. 

5. "Message of President Luis Alberto Monge of the Republic of Costa Rica to the 
17th. Conference of WACL," Asian Outlook (Taipei, Taiwan), vol. 19, no. 9, 
September 1984, p. 5. 

EIGHTEEN 

1. Asian Outlook, vol. 19, no. 9, (September 1984), p. 6. 

2. Ibid., p. 4. 

3. South American observer of 17th. WACL conference to coauthor in not-for-at- 
tribute interview, Washington, D.C, February 1985. 

4. "World Anti-Communist League Conference Begins; Singlaub Installed As 
Chairman," Press Release of Roni Hicks & Associates, Inc. (San Diego, Cali- 
fornia), August 31, 1984. 

5. World Freedom Report (Phoenix: June 15, 1984), pp. 2-3. 

6. AsianOmlook, op. cit., pp. 14-15. 

7. Speech before World Anti-Communist League conference in San Diego, Cali- 
fornia, September 4, 1984. 

8. "Report of the Southeast Asia Panel," 17th. World Anti-Communist League 
conference. 

9. Roman Zwarycz to reporter Russ Bellant in interview at 17th. World Anti- 
Communist League conference. 



JNDEX 



Abdala, Carlos, 6, 9 

ABN (Anti-Bolshevik Block of Nations), 13, 

31, 35-38, 46, 47, 154 
Accuracy in Media, 84 
ACLU (American Civil Liberties Union), 

160 

"Action Petlura," 23 

ACWF (American Council for World 

Freedom), 83-91, 95, 153, 157, 160 
Aderholt, Harry "Heine," 183, 256, 257 
Afghanistan, 119, 120, 160, 260, 268 
Agca, Mehmet Ali, 1 14 
AID (Agency for International 

Development), 78 
A1P (American Independent Party), 91 
Aktion Neue Recht (New Right Action), 79 
Alarc6n, Mario Sandoval (Mico), 8, 9, 110, 

136, 144, 147, 148, 176-79, 198-201, 

204, 209, 223, 254, 261, 270, 272 
death squads and, 169-74 
prominence of, 139-40, 162-63, 165- 

68, 183-85 
Albania, 114 
Albert, Carl, 124 
Albinsson, Ola, 98 
Alejos, Roberto, 183 
Alexander, King, 27 
Alexiev, Dr. Alex, 260 
Alfonsin government (Argentina), 271 
Allende, Salvador, ft 
Alliance for Progress, 18V 
Almlrantr, Clorglo, 9, 9ft, 97, 90, 101, 

112-13 



Alvarez Martinez, Custavo, 217-20, 222, 
224, 225, 227-30, 231-32, 236-37, 
240 

Alvarez, Walter Antonio, 197-98 
American Civil Liberties Union. See ACLU. 
American Council for World Freedom. See 
ACWF. 

American Independent Party. See AIP. 
American Friends of the ABN, 36, 37 
American Military Assistance Advisory 

Group. See MAAC. 
American Nazi Party, 93, 94 
American-Nicaraguan Association. See ANA. 
American Security Council. See ASC. 
Americas Watch, 229-30 
Amigos del Pais (Friends of the Country), 

176 

Amin, Idi, 164 

ANA (American-Nicaraguan Association), 
234 

Anderson, Jack, 80, 142-43, 148 

Andrade, Hector, 173 

Angola, 157, 269, 273 

ANSESAL (Salvadoran National Security 

Agency), 189-93, 196 
Anti-Bolshevik Bloc of Nations. See ABN. 
Anti-Communist Combat Army. See ELA. 
Anti-Marxist Intellectual Croup of Spain, 87 
Antonescu, Yon, 16, 17, 19 
Antonovlcl, Cunstantln, 17-10 
APACl, (Asian People's Antl-Communlst 

League), 4ft 47, 51, 52, 53, 5.5, 50 -59, 

ill, 113, 134 



APROH (Association of Progress for 

Honduras), 232 
Arabs, 82, 108-9, 110, 115, 263 
Arana, Frank, 234 
Arana, President, 170 
ARENA (Nationalist Republican Alliance), 

136-37, 178, 199, 209, 210, 213 
Argentina, 38-39, 74, 107, 111, 119-21, 

140, 142, 143, 146-48, 201 
Argentines 

in Costa Rica, 245 

in EI Salvador, 121, 200 

in Guatemala, 176-77 

in Honduras, 223-27, 229-30 
Armed Revolutionary Nuclei, 98-99 
Armstrong, John, 22 
Arriaga, Father Saenz y, 76 
Aizu, Roberto Alejos, 175 
ASC (American Security Council), 157, 174 
Asian Outlook magazine, 79, 254 
Asian People's Anti-Communist League. Su 
APACL. 

Association of Progress for Honduras. See 

APROH. 
Au Coin, Les, 124 
Australia, 40, 41, 59 
Austria, 38, 39, 97, 98 
Autonomous University of Cuadalajara. Su 

UAC. 

Baldridge, Malcolm, 37 

Bandera, Stefan, 22, 23, 24, 25, 34 

Banzer Plan, 144-45, 149 

Barahona, Elias, 176, 177 

Barahona, German Chupina, 171, 172, 174 

Barbie, Klaus, 12, 147 

Barbieri Filho, Carlos, 140 

Baresic, Miro, 41 

Barrera, Hugo, 189 

Barrios, Cancinos, 172 

Bayshore, Judy, 210 

Becklund, Laurie, 135, 194, 199, 200, 203, 
209 

Belarus Sara, The (Loftus), 35 
Bell, Belden, 176 
Benson, Ivor, 83, 253 
Bergoend, Bernardo, 72-73 
Berkelaar, St. C. de, 45, 97, 99, 100 
Berkenkmis, 97, 100 
Bermudez, Enrique, 227, 270 



Berzins, Alfred, 35-36 
Bianchi, Francisco, 180 
Blum, Howard, 33 
Boeru, Traian, 17n 
Boettcher, Robert, 66 

Bo Hi Pak, 66-68, 124, 125, 127, 128, 141, 

181, 231-32, 239 
Bolivia, 89, 112, 140, 143-45, 147-49, 

218 

Bolschwing, Otto, 19 
Bonifacic, Anton, 37, 42 
Bonilla, Juan Almendares, 221, 222, 223 
Borchgrave, Arnaud de, 126 
Bouchey, Lynn, 126, 158, 233 
Bouscaren, Dr. Anthony, 152, 1 53, 1 58, 
273 

Brazil, 106, 140, 142, 149 

British, 38-40, 83, 87, 88, 97, 111, 115, 

181n, 255. Su also England; Great 

Britain. 

Broad National Front. Su FAN. 
Broekmeijer, Dr., 99 
Broz, Josep. Su Tito. 
Buchanan, Pat, 271 
Buendia, Manuel, 138n 
Bulgarian National Front, Inc., 36, 157, 
254 

Bush, George, 211 
Byelorussia, 43-44 

Byelorussian American Committee, 157 
Byelorussian Liberation Movement, 44 

CAA (Council on American Affairs), 95 

CAL (Latin American Anti-Communist 
Confederation), 72, 79, 80, 111, 121, 
134, 138-41, 143, 145, 147, 148, 
204-5, 223, 238n, 244, 262, 273 

Calero, Adolfo, 229, 237, 239, 258, 270 

Cambodia, 12, 164, 259, 269 

Canada, 154 

Canadian Intelligence Service magazine, 79 
Carbaugh, John, 147, 206, 207, 210, 227 
Cardenal, Jose Francisco "Chicano," 247 
Carillo, Ramon Zelada, 186 
Carlisle, Margo, 206, 210 
Carlists, 75 
Carol, King, 15, 16 
Carranza, Benjamin Piza, 247-48 
Carter, Jimmy, 109-11, 119, 151, 172, 201, 
204, 208, 249 



313 



Career Administration, 109, 110, 174, 175, 

201, 203, 227 
Carto, Willis, 94-95, 99 
Casariegos, Mario, 168, 173 
Castaneda, Oliveiro, 169, 173 
Castillo Armas, Carlos, 166-67 
Castro, Fidel, 111, 159, 189, 248, 249 
Catholic Church, 74, 75-76, 86. See also 

Vatican Church, 
in Latin America, 112 
Marxism in, 144-45 
in Mexico, 72, 76-77 
CAUSA (Confederation of Associations for 

the Unity of the Societies of America), 

125, 126, 129-30, 181, 232-34, 239, 

272 

CAUSA USA, 239 

CDF (Council for the Defense of Freedom), 

126-27, 156-57 
CEDADE (Spanish Circle of Friends of 

Europe), 87 
Center for International Relations, 91 
Central American Anti-Communist Defence 

Accord, 272 
Central Boards of Croatian Societies, 25 
Central Intelligence Agency. See CIA. 
Cerezo, Vinicio, 163n, 272 
Cerra, Jose Fernandez, 3-5 
Chamorro, Fernando "EI Negro," 233 
Chapin, Frederick, 208-9 
Chiaie, Stefano delle, 147 
Chiang Ching-kuo, 55-56, 57 
Chiang Kai-shek, 10, 20, 46, 47-52, 54, 56, 

122, 140 

Chile, 6, 111, 113, 120, 142, 143, 146, 201, 
264 

China. See People's Republic of China; 
Taiwan. 

Choi Sang Ik (Nishikawa Masaru), 68 
Chopiwskyj, Walter, 256-57 
Christ, Hans, 182n 
Chu, Colonel, 190-91 
Churba, Joseph, 126 

CIA (Central Intelligence Agency), 34, 176, 
189, 201, 239, 245 
and Cambodia, 269 
and El Salvador, 213 
and FDN, 240, 247 
In Honduras, 166, 227, 229, 236-37 
nnd South Korea, 53n 



CIA's Secret Operations, The (Rositzke), 34 
CIS (Council for Inter-American Security), 
158 

Ciuntu, Chirila, 11, 13, 14-16, 17, 18, 19- 

20, 31-32, 33, 45, 270 
Clark, William, 127 

Cline, Ray, 55-56, 58, 126, 181, 255, 259 
Close, Robert, 253 

Coalition for Peace Through Strength. See 
CPTS. 

Codreanu, Corneliu, 15, 16, 33 
COE (Special Operations Command), 225, 
240 

Cohn, Roy, 156 
College Republicans, 239 
Colom, Manuel Argueta, 7-9 
Communist China, 51. See also People's 

Republic of China. 
Complot contra la Iglesia ("Conspiracy Against 

the Church"), 75-76, 78 
Concutelli, Pierlugi, 9 

Confederation of Associations for the Unity 
of the Societies of America. See 
CAUSA. 

Congress (U.S.), 122, 159, 178, 182, 208, 

237, 259, 266, 269 
Conservative Caucus, 158 
"Conspiracy Against the Church." See 

Com f lot contra la Iglesia. 
Coronel, Pastor, 141-42, 143 
Costa Rica, 242-51, 268, 272 
Costa Rica Libre. See Free Costa Rica 

Movement. 
Costa Rican Foundation for the Preservation 

of Liberty, 247 
Costick, Miles, 126 

Council Against Communist Aggression. See 
CDF. 

Council on American Affairs. See CAA. 
Council for the Defense of Freedom. See 
CDF. 

Council for Inter-American Security. See 
CIS. 

CPTS (Coalition for Peace Through 

Strength), 157 
Crane, Philip, 95, 156 
Crawford, Alan, 84 

Cristeros, Los (Legion of Christ the King), 

72, 73, 86 
Croatia (Yugoslavia), 26 



314 



Croatian Liberation Movement (HOP), 1 3, 

25, 27, 36, 40, 42, 99, 254 
Croalian Revolutionary Brotherhood, 40 
Croatians, 5, 38-42, 74, 111, 114, 262. See 

also Ustasha movement. 
Cuba, 111, 120, 159, 189, 227, 243, 248, 

263 

Cuban Nationalist Movement, 7 
Cubans, anti-Castro, 143, 175, 177, 248-49 
Cuellar, Adolfo, 141, 191, 192, 193 
Curtis, Carl T., 95 
Czechoslovakia, 166 

Damjanovic, Jozo, 5-6, 9, 41 
Danagaus Vanagi ("Danaga Hawks"), 36, 
45 

DAubuisson, Roberto, 136, 137, 147^18, 178, 
191, 193-94, 196-98, 199, 200, 201-5, 
206, 207-11, 213, 223, 227, 273 

D'Aubuisson on Democracy (Western Goals), 
156 

Davis, Raymond, 156 
Deaver and Hannaford, 176 
"Declaration of San Salvador," 272-73 
de Gaulle, Charles, 270 
Democratic National Organization. See 

ORDEN. 
DeMoss, Deborah, 207 
Detmold Conference, 94 
Dickey, Christopher, 196-97 
Dixon, Alan )., 37 

Dobriansky, Lev, 84, 91, 153, 154, 157 

Docheff, Ivan, 157 

Docksai, Ronald, 158 

Do Dang Cong, 59 

Dolan, Terry, 126 

Dornan, Robert, 85, 254 

Draganovic, Father, 39 

Draper, Wycliffe, 151 

Duarte, Jose Napoleon, 205, 212-13 

Duarte, Moises jesus de Ulloa, 233 

Dutch, 100. See also Netherlands. 

Dyer, Deri, 244 

East, John, 127 

Eastern Europeans, 12, 13, 30, 153, 154, 

270-71 
Echaverry, Emilio, 227 
Edwards, Lee, 83-84, 88, 90-91 
Eisenhower, Dwight David, 67 



Eisenhower Administration, 165-66 
ELA (Anti-Communist Combat Army), 

222-24, 240 
Elizabeth II, 67 

El Salvador, 113-14, 119, 139, 163, 187- 
216, 219, 226, 230, 232, 238, 257, 258 
Argentines in, 121, 200 
civil strife in, 148, 178 
death squads in, 136-37, 174, 188-89, 
192-93, 195-97, 199-201, 210-13 
and Taiwan, 190-91, 205, 214, 272, 273 
terrorism in, 140-41, 206-7, 216 
Engdahl, Per, 96, 97 

England, 64. See also British; Great Britain. 
ESA (Secret Anti-Communist Army), 165, 
177 

ESB (European Social Movement), 97 
Eugenics and Race (Pearson), 93-94 
Eurodestra, 101 

European Economic Community, 115 
European Freedom Council, 36 
European Social Movement. See ESB. 
Evans, M. Stanton, 157 

Fagoth, Steadman, 233 

Fakira, Monaf, 258 

Falwell, Jerry, 127, 180 

FAN (Broad National Front), 199, 200, 201 

FDN (Nicaraguan Democratic Force), 229, 

234, 238, 245, 259 
Federation of Latin American Democratic 

Entities (FEDAL), 238n, 244 
FEMACO (Mexican Anti-Communist 

Federation), 79, 85 
First Unitarian Church, 160 
Fisher, John, 84, 152 
Flores, Hernan Landivar, 112 
FMLN, 203 

Fontaine, Roger, 127, 175, 255, 259-60 
Foreign Affairs Circle, 87, 88, 89, 99, 255 
Formosa, 47-49, 50. See also Taiwan. 
France, 101 

Frances, Hector, 176, 200, 245, 246 

Franco, Francisco, 75 

Fraser, Donald, 123, 124 

Free Costa Rica Movement (Costa Rica 

Libre), 244, 246, 247, 248 
Freedom Council of Canada, 154 
Freedom Leadership Foundation, 68, 183 
Freemasons, 74, 7ft, 79, 8ft 



a 5 



Friends of the Country. See Amigos del Pais. 
Friends of the FBI, 84 
Fuentes, Jose Ricardo, 272 
Fuerza Nueva, 9, 101 
FUR (United Revolutionary Front), 7, 
8 

FUSEP (Public Security.Forces), 220-25 
FUUD (United Democratic University 
Front), 221-23 

Galicia, 21-23, 25,38 

Callardo, Carlos Cuesta, 73-74, 76, 77 

Garcia Meza, Luis, 204 

Garcia Prieto, Raul, 189 

Garibay, Luis, 78 

Garibi y Rivera, Cardinal, 77 

Gam, Jake, 95 

Garwood, Ellen, 270 

General Political Warfare Department 

(Taiwan), 57-58, 134 
Genri Undo, 68, 69 

Germany, 16-25, 27, 28, 31, 34, 35, 38, 
42-45, 73, 74, 76, 79, 94, 97, 100, 
111, 114. Sualso Nazis; West 
Germany. 

Germany Fighting (Engdahl), 96 

Gignac, Yves, 270 

Goebbels, Joseph, 209n 

Gombos, Emo (Gyula), 100 

Gorman, Patrick, 83, 84 

Gostick Ron, 154 

Graham, Daniel O., 37, 126, 152, 154, 157, 

174, 175 
Gran, Dr. Ikram, 270 
Great Britain, 35. See also British; England. 
Greaves, Elmore D, 102 
Greece, 101 
Grenada, 119 
Group of Puebla, 76 

Guatemala, 109, 119, 134, 162-86, 200, 
209, 210, 219. See also MLN. 
allies of, 183 
Argentines in, 176-77 
culture of, 163-64 

death squads in, 7-9, 114, 136, 139, 149, 
163, 165, 169-75, 177, 180, 232, 272 

La Mano Blanca in, 167-68, 195-96, 
234 

and Taiwan, 167, 160, 170-71, 182- 03, 
214 



Guerrero, Francisco Jose "Chachi," 190, 

193, 205-6 
Guerrero, Raimundo, 74, 77, 79, 80, 85 
Guevara, Hanibal, 179 
Gunther, Franklin Mott, 18 
Gunther, Hans F. K., 93 
Gutierrez, Jaime Abdul, 196 
Gutierrez, Dr. Luis Garibay, 79-80, 107 
Guzman, Jacobo Arbenz, 165-66 
government of, 168 

Hadland, Tor, 97, 100 
Haiti, 218 

Hammerschmidt, John, 124 
Hamrick, Nat, 246 
Happy World Inc., 129 
Hartle, Heinrich, 97, 98 
Hatch, Orrin, 127 

Hefer, Stejpan, 11, 13, 25-29, 36, 39, 40, 

42, 108, 111, 113 
Helms, Jesse, 95, 127, 147, 206, 207, 210, 

213, 227, 240, 246 
Helms, Richard, 181 
Henney, Arpad, 97 

Hernandez, Alexander, 220, 221, 225, 229, 
240 

Hilberg, Raul, 23-24 
Himmler, Heinrich, 20 
Hirschy, Dr. Ira, 48 

Hitler, Adolf, 11, 12, 17, 19, 20, 23, 27, 71, 

73,87,96,97 
Holdgriewe, Donald, 126-27 
HoIIoway, Bruce, 37 

Holy Spirit Association for the Unification 
of World Christianity. See Unification 
Church. 

Honduras, 106, 163, 166, 217-41, 247, 
260-61, 272 
Argentines in, 223-27, 229-30 
and Taiwan, 231, 234-35, 236 

Hoover, J. Edgar, 84 

HOP. See Croatian Liberation Movement. 

Hull, John, 248 

Hungarist Movement, 97, 100 

Hunt, Nelson Bunker, 155-56, 270 

Hurlbut, Bert, 239 

Hyde, Henry J., 37 

IACCD (Inter-American Confederation of 
Continent nl Pefense), 7V 



316 



Indochina, 1 1 1, 260 
Indonesia, 109 

Institute of Defense Analysis, 130 
Inter-American Commission on Human 

Rights, 110 
Inter-American Confederation of 

Continental Defense. Su IACCD. 
International Federation for the 

Extermination of Communism, 68 
Iorga, Nicolae, 16-17 
Iron Cuard, 31, 32, 33, 36, 74, 86, 108, 

1 1 1, 144, 262. Su also Legion of the 

Archangel Michael. 
Irvine, Reed, 84, 86, 127, 128, 148, 157 
Israel, 64, 108-9, 110, 111, 115, 172, 263. 

Su also Jews. 
Italian Social Movement. Su MSI. 
Italy, 9, 27, 28, 39, 62, 96, 97, 98, 101, 

112-13, 114,261 

Jamjoon, Sheik Ahmed Salah, 100 
Janos, 10-11 

Japan, 60-63, 64, 125, 262, 264, 265 
Unification Church in, 68-69, 105, 129 
yakuza in, 69, 70, 124 

Japan Youth Lectures, 69 

Jenkins, Brian, 135 

Jenkins, Loren, 182 

Jenkins, Louis "Woody," 238-39 

Jesus Christ, 64 

Jews, 13, 15-18, 22, 24, 25, 27-29, 33, 
38, 64, 74-77, 79, 82, 86, 111-12, 
265. Su also Israel. 

John Paul II, Pope, 1 14 

John XXIII, Pope, 75 

Jones, Bruce, 249, 250, 268 

Jordan, Colin, 94 

Juarez, Hugo Banyer, 145 

Judd, Dr. Walter H, 84, 157 

Julia, Carlos Garcia, 4-5 

Kasmowich, Dimitri, 43-44 

KCFF (Korean Cultural and Freedom 

Foundation), 67 
Keegan, George, 126 
Kemp, Jack, 95 
Kennedy, John F., 189, 190 
Kerr, George, 48 
Kim Dae Jung, 271 
Kim Jae Kyu, 54 



Kim Jong Pil, 53, 66 
Kim Sang In, 66, 125 
King, Martin Luther, Jr., 155 
Kissinger, Henry, 181n 
KMT. See Kuomintang. 
Knights of Malta, 183 

Kodama, Yoshio, 46, 60-63, 65, 68, 69, 70, 

125, 129 
Koen, Albert, 152, 154, 269 
Kokusui Taishuto movement, 61, 62 
Komisar, Lucy, 234 

Korea, 50-54, 59, 64-68, 105, 111. Su also 

South Korea. 
Koreagate scandal, 53, 122-24, 129, 130 
Korean Cultural and Freedom Foundation. 

Su KCFF. 
Korean War, 50 

Kosiak, John, 37, 44, 157, 254, 270 
Kremer, Dr. Charles, 33 
Kubek, Anthony, 152, 156 
Kuboki, Osami, 69, 125 
Ku Cheng-kang, 51-52, 85, 87, 99, 100, 
153 

Kulapichtir, Prapham, 59 
Kuomintang. Su Taiwan. 

Labin, Suzanne, 263-64 
Lagos, Luis Angel, 204, 205 
Landig, Wilhelm, 94, 97, 98 
Lane, Thomas, 84, 88-89 
Lanza, Eduardo, 223 
Laotians, 59 

LaRouche, Lyndon, 181n 
Latin America, 106, 107, 121 

"autonomous universities" in, 77 
Latin American Anti-Communist 

Confederation. Su CAL. 
Latvia, 45 

Lau, Ricardo "EI Chino," 230 

LaVista, Vincent, 39 

Laxalt, Paul, 127 

Leach, James, 133, 270 

Leano, Antonio, 78 

Lebed, Mykola (Nicholas), 22-23, 24 

LeBoutillier, John, 254 

Legion of the Archangel Michael, 14-20, 

31, 32. Su also Iron Guard. 
Legion of Christ the King. Su Cristeros, 

Los. 

Leighton, Ana, 6, 7, 9 



Si7 



Leighton, Bernardo, 6-7, 9, 143 

Leon, Oliverio Castaneda de, 165 

Letelier, Orlando, 143 

Levasic, Father, 39 

Lewis, Marx, 157 

Liberty Lobby, 83, 94-95, 154 

Lindsten, Ake, 45, 97, 98 

Liu, David, 133, 271 

Lockheed Aircraft Corporation, 70 

Lof tus, John, 35 

Lorenzo, Raul, 173 

Lorenzo Zelaya National Front 

(Cinchoneros), 228 
Los Angeles Police Department's Public 

Disorder Intelligence Division (PDID), 

160 

Los Angeles Times, 135 

Lucas Carcia, Romeo, 172, 174, 175, 179 

government of, 176, 180 
Luce, Clare Boothe, 253 
Luxembourg Council of Resistance Fighters, 
253 

Lyons, Richard, 122-23 

MAAG (American Military Assistance 

Advisory Croup), 50, 57 
MacArthur, Douglas, 49-50, 152 
McCarthy, Joseph, 50 
McDonald, Larry, 203 
MacKenzie-McCheyne (firm), 210 
Maclean, Fitzroy, 28 
McCIure, James, 110, 206, 210 
McColl, Alexander, 238 
McDonald, John P., 155 
McLowery, John, 127 
Maddox, Lester, 91 
Magana, Alvaro, 210, 211, 212 
Majano, Amulfo, 202 
Malaysia, 109 
Manion, Chris, 207, 210 
Mano Blanca, La (The White Hand), 167- 

68, 195-96, 234 
Mao Tse-tung, 47, 49, 50 
Marcos, Ferdinand, 59 
Martin, Donald, 83, 99, 100 
Martinez, Cesar Augusto, 182 
Martinez Montt, Luis, 170, 184 
Masaru, Nlshikawa. See Choi Sang Ik. 
Mason, Carlos Cuillcrmo Suarez, 147, 204 
Massagrnnde, Elio, 101 



Mataxis, Theodore, 260 
Mazzoco, William, 260 
MDN (Nationalist Democratic Movement), 
166 

Medrano, Jose Alberto "Chele" (Blondie), 
189, 190, 191-92, 193, 196n, 198 

Meinveille, Julio, 74-75, 140 

Mejia Victores, Oscar Humberto, 182, 183, 
185 

government of, 186 
Mengele, Josef, 12, 93, 103 
Messing, Andy, 152, 157, 158, 183, 239 
Mexican Anti-Communist Federation. See 

FEMACO. 
Mexico, 71-80, 85-86, 88, 89, 97, 99, 

107, 112. See also Tecos. 
Meyer, Cord, 127 
Meza, Victor, 224 
Middle East Security Council, 108, 

153 

Midence Pivaral, Carlos, 173, 201, 209 
Midence Pivaral, Raul, 172 
Mikus, Josef, 45, 157 
Misura guerrillas, 233 

MLN (National Liberation Movement), 8, 9, 
136, 162, 163, 165, 167-74, 177-79, 
182, 184, 185, 199, 200, 209 

Molina, Raul, 191 

Monge, Luis Alberto, 243, 246, 250-51 
Monterrosa, Domingo, 213-16 
Montoneros, 120, 146-47 
Moon, Sun Myung, 46, 64-69, 85, 105-6, 

123-30, 181, 255, 264, 272 
Moorer, Thomas, 156, 157 
Morris, Jim, 260 
Morris, Robert, 91, 152 
Mosley, Oswald, 97 
Mozambique, 259, 260 
MSI (Italian Social Movement), 9, 96-97, 

98 

Mutphy, Mike, 128 

Mussolini, Benito, 27, 28, 62, 87, 98 

Mutual Support Croup, 185 

Nairn, Allan, 165, 174, 175 
NARWACL (North American Regional 

World Anti-Communist League), 154 
National Autonomous University of 

Honduras. See UNAH. 
Nutlonal Conciliation Party. See PCN. 



3i8 



National Conservative Political Action 

Committee. See NCPAC. 
National Defense Council, 183 
Nationalist China. See Taiwan. 
Nationalist Democratic Movement. See 

MDN. 

Nationalist Republican Alliance. See 

ARENA. 
National Lawyers Guild, 160 
National Liberation Movement. See MLN. 
National Republican Heritage Groups 

Council, 43 
Nazis, 11-13, 16, 21-28, 33-35, 62, 76, 

93, 108. See also Germany. 
NCPAC (National Conservative Political 

Action Committee), 128 
Negroponte, John, 231 
Netherlands, 45, 97, 99. See also Dutch. 
New Republic, 196-97 

New Right Action. See Aktion Neue Recht. 
New York Times, The, 122-23 
Nicaragua, 176, 189, 200, 219, 220, 228, 
234, 237, 266. See also Sandinistas, 
and Castro, 248 

contras and, 120, 158, 160, 166, 225, 231, 

238, 257, 258, 259, 268 
and Costa Rica, 243, 245-46, 249-50, 

272 

exile groups, 233 

and Honduras, 218, 224, 229, 230, 231, 
236, 240 

Nicaraguan Democratic Force. See FDN. 
Nixon, Richard, 32, 67, 85, 126 
Nobosuke, Kishi, 63n 
North, Oliver, 268 

North American Regional World Anti- 
Communist League. See NARWACL. 
Northern League for Pan-Nordic Friendship, 

94, 96 

North Korea, 50-51 
Norway, 97-98 
Norwegian Front, 97, 100-101 
Norwegian Norsk Rikt party, 79 

Oberlander, Theodore, 23, 44-45 

Occorsio, Vittorio, 101, 261 

O'Connor, Anne Marie, 230 

Office for Special Investigations. See OSI. 

O'Leary, Jeremiah, 127 

Ollas, Jose. See Villegas, Santiago. 



O'Neill, Frank, 63 

OPEN (Organization for the National 

Emergency), 244 
Operation Big Pine III, 240 
Operation Condor, 142-43, 146 
"Operation Phoenix," 42 
ORDEN (Democratic National 

Organization), 189-93, 196, 198 
Ordine Nuovo ("New Order"), 98-99, 101, 

261 

Organization for the National Emergency. 
See OPEN. 

Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists. See 

OUN; OUN/B. 
OSI (Office for Special Investigations), 270- 

71 

Osorio, Carlos Arana, 167, 168, 177 
Otero, Leonel Sisniega, 167, 172, 179, 181, 

182, 185, 200,272,273 
OUN (Organization of Ukrainian 

Nationalists), 21-22, 23, 34, 35, 38 
OUN/B (Organization of Ukrainian 

Nationalists), 22, 24 

Pagliai, Pierluigi, 147n 

Palacios, Jesus, 87-88 

Palestine Liberation Organization, 114 

Panama, David Ernesto "Neto," 201 

Panzieri, Fabrizio, 114 

Paprikoff, George, 37 

Paraguay, 5, 6, 41, 100, 103, 107, 110, 125, 
134, 140, 141-42, 145, 178, 201, 254 

Park Chung Hee, 46, 51, 52-54, 59 
regime of, 123 

Parker, Jay, 91, 126, 153, 154, 233 

Pastora, Eden, 246, 247, 248 

Patton, General George S., Ill, 156 

Paul, Jay, 160 

Paul VI, Pope, 86, 144 

Pavelic, Ante, 26-27, 28, 29, 36, 38-39, 
40, 41, 42, 254 

PCN (National Conciliation Party), 136, 
190, 192 

Pearson, Roger, 92-97, 99-100, 102-3, 

151, 152, 153-54, 206, 263 
Peng Yu, 234, 236 

People's Republic of China, 58, 105, 109- 

10, 134, 171, 234, 235 
Percy, Charles H, 37 
Philippines, 59 



319 



Phillips, Howard, 91, 152, 158, 175 
Pickering, Thomas, 213 
Pinar, Bias, 9, 101 
"Pinay, Maurice," 75-76 
Pinochet, Augusto, 6, 113, 264 

government of, 7 
Pioneer Fund, 153 
Playboy magazine, 213 
Poland, 21, 22, 24.25 

Political Warfare Cadres Academy (Taiwan), 
56-57, 107, 113, 135, 137, 214, 235, 
261 

Pol Pot, 164 

Posey, Tom, 270 

Possony, Stefan, 75, 85-86, 87, 88, 89, 91, 

139, 153, 157, 264 
Powless, Lynda, 20 
Priester, Karl Heinz, 97 
PUA (Unified Anti-Communist Party), 185 
Public Security Forces. See FUSEP. 
Puiggros, Dr. Bastolme, 87-88 
Pyes, Craig, 177, 199, 201, 203, 209 

Quisling, Vidkun, 97-98 

Race and Civilization (Pearson), 93 
Radio of Free Asia. See ROFA. 
Radio Liberty, 38 
Raes, Roeland, 100 
Ramirez, Elias, 171 
Rauti, Pino, 98, 101 

Reagan, Ronald, 13, 139, 158, 207, 208, 
240, 244 
and ABN, 37-38 
and anti-Castro Cubans, 249 
conservatism of, 159-60 
and contras, 227, 245 
and Croatians, 43 

elected president, 119-20, 177, 206 
and Cuatemala, 174, 175-76 
letter to Pearson, 92, 93, 103 
and WACL, 254 
Reagan Administration, 91, 130, 155, 248, 
270 

and contras, 227, 259 
and El Salvador, 207-9, 211, 213 
foreign policy of, 37-38 
and Guatemala, 177-78, 182 
and Honduras, 218, 224, 229, 231, 236, 
241) 



and New Right, 159 

and Sandinistas, 272 

and Singlaub, 237, 268-69 

and Taiwan, 271 

and Unification Church, 126 

and Washington Times, 127 
Refugee Relief International, 129, 183, 238, 

256, 257 
Replica, 79 

Republic of China. See Taiwan. 
Rhee, Jhoon, 69 
Rhee, Synghman, 51, 52, 54 
Rhodesia, 106-7, 110, 112, 119 
Ribbentrop, Joachim von, 20 
Ribeiro, Osvaldo, 227 
Richardson, Warren, 125 
Ricorde, Auguste, 141 
Rios Montt, Efrai'n, 169-70, 179-81, 182 
Rivas, Sergeant, 212 
Robelo, Alfonso, 234 
Roberto, Holden, 270 
Robertson, Pat, 179, 180 
Rockefeller, Nelson, 75 
Rockwell, Lincoln, 94-95 
Rodriguez, Luis Benedicto, 196n 
Rodriguez, Rafael, 80-81, 146-47, 154, 
205 

ROFA (Radio of Free Asia), 67-68 
Rolovic, Vladimir, 41 
Romanian Orthodox Church, 32 
Romanians, 13-20, 31, 36, 74, 86, 111, 

144, 262 
Romero, Carlos Humberto, 196 
Romero, Oscar Arnulfo, 197, 200, 201, 202, 

207 

Ronnett, Alexander, 37 

Roosevelt, Franklin, 75 

Rosa, Francisco Amaya, 197 

Rosenberg, Alfred, 73, 98 

Rositzke, Harry, 34 

Rowe, David, 53, 85, 153, 264 

Rubel, Dr. Eduard, 271 

Ruis, Maria Dolores Gonzalez, 4 

Ruiz, Donald Alvarez, 174, 176 

Rusher, William, 128 

Russia, 12, 109. See also Soviet Union. 

Saborio, Oscar, 246-47, 249, 250 
Sakic, Dinko, 41 
Salonen, Neil, 84-85 



320 



Salvadoran National Security Agency. See 

ANSESAL. 
Sandinistas, 110, 119, 160, 176, 219-21, 

224, 227, 230, 231, 237, 240, 243-46, 

248, 258, 272. See also Nicaragua. 
Santamaria, Amilcar, 235-36 
Santivanez, Roberto Eulalio, 139, 141, 192- 

93, 196, 197, 199, 200, 206 
Saravia, Rafael Alvaro, 202 
Sargen, Andres Nazario, 248 
Sasakawa, Ryoichi, 46, 60, 61-63, 65, 68- 

70, 129 
Saudi Arabia, 153 

Schell, Kjell Laugerud, 170, 171, 172, 179 
Schlafly, Fred, 152, 153 
Schlafly, Phyllis, 152 
Schwarz, Fred, 157 

Secret Anti-Communist Army. See ESA. 

Serbs, 27-29 

Shin Chan, 105 

Shokyo Rengo, 69, 125 

Sima, Horia, 14, 15, 16, 17, 19, 20, 31, 33, 

74n, 112, 115, 144 
Singlaub, John K., 55, 120, 148, 150-52, 

154-58, 161, 174, 175, 181, 183, 238, 

239, 252, 253, 255-58, 260, 265, 271, 

273 

and Reagan Administration, 237, 268-69 
Sint Martinsfonds, 45, 97, 100 
SIONICS, 181 
Sleeper, Ray, 152 
Slovak World Congress, 45, 157 
Sluzhba Bezpeky (OUN/B secret police), 22 
Smith, William French, 133 
Soejima, Yoshikazu, 125 
Sola, Orlando de, 203, 210 
Solano, Edmundo, 247 
Soldier of Fortune magazine, 257 
Somoza, Anastasio Debayle, 110, 119, 
142n, 200, 219, 220, 221, 224 

dictatorship of, 243 

supporters of, 229, 245 
Sonjo Doshikai, 60 
Sopasaino, Prince, 59 

South Africa, 82, 83, 106-7, 109, 110, 112, 

160, 263 
Southeast Asia, 59 

South Korea, 11, 47, 51, 52-54, 105, 106, 
110, 122-30, 239, 263, 266, 271. Su 
also Korea. 



South Vietnam, 59, 113 

Soviet Union, 34, 35, 38, 62, 114, 115, 119, 

120, 159, 191, 257, 263. Su also 

Russia, 
allies of, 108 
KGB, 154, 271 
model of, 57, 113 
in North Korea, 50-51 
during World War II, 13, 20-25, 29, 31, 

33, 111 

Spain, 4, 9, 33, 40, 41, 74n, 75, 87, 101, 
114 

Spanish Circle of Friends of Europe. See 

CEDADE. 
Special Operations Command. See COE. 
Sri Lanka, 109 
Stalin regime, 23 
State Department, 185, 201, 240, 

247 

Stelescu, Mihail, 15 

Stetsko, Siava, 255, 257-58, 270 

Stetsko, Yaroslav, 11, 13, 20-25, 33-37, 

'■ 44-46, 254-55, 258, 262, 270 
Stewart-Smith, Geoffrey, 86-89, 90 
Stilwell, Joseph, 47, 56 
Stroessner, Alfredo, 5, 6, 9, 41, 101, 111, 

141, 204, 254 
Stump, Bob, 156 

Suazo Cbrdova, Roberto, 228, 232 

Subversion Factor, The (film), 156 

Sullivan, John, 206 

Sumner, Gordon, Jr., 126, 158, 174 

Sung il Cho, 123 

Sweden, 41, 45, 96, 97, 98 

Syria, 108 

Tacuaras, the, 74, 140 

Taiwan, 11, 20, 21, 42, 47, 59, 79, 105, 
106, 107, 108, 109, 110, 112, 113, 
122, 123, 140, 149, 210, 239, 248, 
261, 263, 264, 266. 271. Su also 
Formosa; Political Warfare Cadres 
Academy, 
and APACL, 51-52 

and El Salvador, 190-91, 205, 214, 272, 
273 

and Guatemala, 167, 168, 170-71, 182- 
83,214 

and Honduras, 231, 234-35, 236 
surveillance system of, 56-58, 131-37 



Taiwan (continued) 

and United States, 49-50, 52, 54-55, 57, 
133, 160, 234 

and USCWF, 152 
Tameo, Shirai, 69 
Tamils, the, 109 
Tanaka, Prime Minister, 70 
Tecos (Mexico), 71-81, 83, 85-86, 89-91, 
99, 107, 138-40, 144, 148, 153, 205- 
6, 253, 255, 263-65 
TFP (Tradition, Family and Property), 78, 

140 
Thailand, 59 
Thieu, Nguyen Van, 59 
Thompson, Jim, 37 
Thunder on the Right (Crawford), 84 
Thurmond, Strom, 85 
Tito (Josip Broz), 25, 38, 40, 111 

regime of, 5 
Torres Arias, Leonidas, 222-23, 228-29 
Torrijos, Omar, 135-36 
Tradition, Family and Property. See TFP. 
Trifa, Viorel, 15, 16, 17, 19, 20, 32-33 
Trujillo, Rafael, 41 
Truman, Harry S., 49, 67, 75 

UAC (Autonomous University of 
Guadalajara), 77-78, 79-80 
Uganda, 164 

UGB. See White Warriors' Union. 
Ukrainian Insurgent Army. See UP A. 
Ukrainian Nightingales, 22, 23 
Ukrainians, 13, 21-25, 33-35, 38, 44, 109, 

254-55, 261,262 
UN (United Nations), 76, 234 
UNAH (National Autonomous University 

of Honduras), 220-23 
Underground Bible Fund, 90 
Unification Church (Holy Spirit Association 

for the Unification of World 

Christianity), 64-69, 105-6, 107, 121, 

123-30, 153, 181, 183, 231-34, 255, 

262-65, 272 
in Japan, 68-69, 105, 129 
and United States, 84-85, 129 
Unified Anti-Communist Party. See PUA. 
United Democratic University Front. See 

FUUD. 
United Nations. See UN. 
United Police Fund, 04 



ill 

United Revolutionary Front. See FUR. 
United State., 31, »2, 86-87, 42, 64, 115, 
119 

and antl-Quiro Cutwni, 248-49 
and anti-communlit leaguei, 94 
and Costa Rica, 243-44, 230 
and El Salvador, 109, 210-11, 287-38 
and Guatemala, 165-ftfi, 172, 174-70, 

179-80, 182-83 
and Honduras, 227, 230-31, 236-87 
and Japan, 62-63, 70 
and Korea, 67-68 
and Mexico, 72, 73, 78 
and Nazis, 154 

New Right organizations in, 150-61 
and Nicaragua, 237 
and South Korea, 51, 54 
and Taiwan, 49-50, 52, 54-55, 57, 133, 
160, 234 

and Unification Church, 84-85, 129 
and WACL, 109-11, 265 
and war criminals, 62-63, 154 
United States Council for World Freedom. 

See USCWF. 
Universal Trek '85, 240 
UPA (Ukrainian Insurgent Army), 25 
Urbina Pinto, Bemal, 244-45, 246, 248, 

249, 250, 251, 272 
Uruguay, 89, 106, 128, 140, 143, 146 
USCWF (United States Council for World 
Freedom), 91, 152-55, 157, 160, 161, 
183, 253, 259, 269, 273 
U.S. Global Strategy Council, 126 
Ustasha movement, 13, 26-29, 36, 
38-43, 74, 86, 99, 108, 111, 114, 
254, 262 

Valdivieso, Ricardo, 210 
Van Atta, Dale, 80 
Van Deerlin, Lionel, 90 
Vatican Church, 30, 39, 144 
Vatican Council II, 75-76 
Velasco, Garibi, 76 
Venezuela, 243 
Vidal, Felipe, 248-49, 250 
Videla, Jorge Rafael, 204, 224, 271 
Viera, Jose Rodolfo, 182n, 210 
Vietnam, 42, 109, 259. See also Indochina; 

South Vietnam. 
Vlguerlr, Richard, 03, 90-91, 150 



3ZZ 



Villagran-Kramer, Francisco, 171 
Villegas, Santiago (Jose Ollas), 227 
Voorpost (Dutch), 100 

WACL. See World Anti-Communist League. 
WACL and Anti-Semitism, 89 
Walker, Richard, 123 
Walker, Sir Walter, 37 
Walsh, Patrick, 154 
Walt, Lewis, 152, 156 
Walters, Vernon, 253 
Wanted! (Blum), 33 
War Called Peace, The, 156 
Washington Post, The, 80, 153-54, 236-37, 
238, 239 

Washington Times, The, 107n, 127, 128, 239 

Washington Tribune, The, 126 

Watt, James, 37, 180 

Wedemeyer, Albert C, 49 

Wen-Chen Chen, 133 

WerBell, Mitchell Livingstone, III, 181-82 

Werner, Paul, 125 

Western Destiny magazine, 95 

Western Coals, 155-56, 159, 160 

West Germany, 35, 1 14 

Weyrich, Paul, 91, 210, 211 

White, Helen, 157 

White, Leigh, 18 

White, Robert, 9, 110-11, 137, 197, 202, 
207-8 

White Hand, The. See Mano Blanca, La. 
White Warriors' Union (UGB), 194-95 



Wiegand, Oscar, 78 

Woellner, R David, 126 

World Anti-Communist League (WACL) 

and anti-Semitism, 85-89 

composition of, 88 

and Croatian Liberation Movement, 42 
founding of, 11, 31 
groups merging to form, 47 
growth of, 109 

Luxembourg conference, 252-53 
major power groups in, 104-9, 153 
new American chapter of, 150-55 
origins of, 88-89 
purpose of, 1 1 

San Diego conference, 252-60 

tactics of, 12, 263 

and terrorism, 113-15 

and United States, 109-11, 265 

and worldwide network of fascism, 45 

World Church Service, 32 

World Youth Anti-Communist League, 
87 

Yoh, Bernard, 127 

Yugoslavia, 5, 25-27, 39-43, 114 

Zacapa rebellion, 167-68 
Zamora, Mario, 197 
Zimbabwe. See Rhodesia. 
Zimbalist, Efrem, Jr., 84 
Zionism, 89 

Zwarycz, Roman, 37-38, 260